


some invisible string (tying you to me)

by seekrest



Series: The Secret Sessions [10]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: (and love because it’s me), (it’s a coffee shop au if you squint), Coffee Shops, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Identity Reveal, Light Angst, Meet-Cute, Michelle Jones is a Little Shit, Missed Connections, Mutual Pining, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, a love letter to spider-man, canon nudged to the left, its just me and my whims now, meet again after high school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:34:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25509826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: “MJ?”Michelle snaps her head up, confused for a moment since she hadn’t given the barista her old nickname only for her eyes to widen when she sees who it is.“Peter?”
Relationships: Michelle Jones & Mary Jane Watson, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: The Secret Sessions [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537501
Comments: 246
Kudos: 303





	1. Time, Curious Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Machiavelien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Machiavelien/gifts).



> Happy birthday Machi!!!!! You’re the greatest gift to me and to the fandom - hope you enjoy this blend of tropes and spider-man shenanigans with our fav idiots in denial :)

Michelle shivers as she steps into the coffee shop, loosening her coat as she steps in and takes in the quiet hum of her surroundings. 

She hadn’t been in the city in years yet there was something about it, something about _this_ little hole in the wall that immediately brought her back to how she felt the first time she stepped in. 

It was the same coffee shop Michelle used to frequent when she was in high school, a safe place to avoid the quiet and empty apartment waiting for her anytime she came home from school. Her parents loved her dearly, Michelle knew that but loving her and hating each other in equal measure led to a less than welcoming environment to grow up in. 

To the point that when they’d sat her down and announced that they were getting a divorce during Thanksgiving break of her freshman year of college, Michelle wasn’t upset - but relieved, glad they’d finally let go of staying together under the pretense of being there “for” her. 

Michelle makes a mental note to text her mom and let her know she made it into the city, as soon as it was a decent time in California. The after effects of their divorce had flung them both to opposite sides of the country but they were just as devoted - if not physically distant - as ever. 

She shakes away some of the water on her umbrella, wrapping it up before wiping her feet along the placemat, catching the appreciative smile from the barista at the counter.

It was good practice to be a decent human being no matter where you went, but Michelle was especially mindful about this place. Second Street Coffee wasn’t anywhere close to its namesake but it was eclectic and quiet, the place she missed more than she’d even missed her _actual_ home - particularly since that had changed so drastically in the eight years since she’d left the city. 

Going to Harvard had been all but a given coming from Midtown but going to grad school at Princeton had been a dream she hadn’t realized she had until the moment it was presented as an option. Michelle got over her innate dislike for New Jersey as soon as she got the acceptance letter towards a doctorate in social policy, having every intention of it bringing her closer to the city, and the coffee shop, she loved. 

Grad school was hell, figuratively and literally, but it was a hell that she loved - if only for how invigorating it was to finally get the chance to fully apply herself in a way that she’d never been able to before. But it also came at a cost, exhausting and so time consuming that even if she was a little under two hours away from the city - she rarely found the time to venture out beyond the safe haven of the few blocks she lived around. 

Michelle had a usual coffee shop there, a gaggle of friends and colleagues whose company she enjoyed and a tiny apartment where every nook was filled with books and a collection of mugs for the copious amounts of tea she consumed during late night study sessions. 

Yet there was something about the city that she missed, something about _this_ specific coffee shop that brought a sense of home that Michelle almost felt bad that it had taken an actual event to bring her back. 

Michelle walks up to the counter, the same barista from before smiling wide as they greet her. She places her order, just when her phone buzzes - quickly paying the barista before checking to see who it was. 

Predictably, it was Betty - asking if she’d made it to the city on time and when she’d be arriving to the hotel. Michelle smirked, quickly tapping out a reply as she walked over to the bar where her drink would be delivered, a guy already there staring at something on his phone. 

Of all the things that had changed in her life since graduation from Midtown, Michelle was glad that being friends with Betty hadn’t been one of them - a more intentional connection on Betty’s part rather than her own but one that she was thankful for now. 

Betty wasn’t the first of her friends to get married but she was the first that she actually cared about enough to accept the invitation to be a part of the wedding party, smiling when she receives a triple text from Betty with a string of excited emojis.

“MJ?”

Michelle snaps her head up, confused for a moment since she hadn’t given the barista her old nickname only for her eyes to widen when she sees who it is.

“Peter?” Michelle asks, letting out a surprised huff as Peter grins.

It’s no wonder she didn’t immediately recognize him when she stepped beside him. For one, he’s a little taller than he was in high school - filled out in more ways than one, even if Michelle still has an inch or so on him. His hair is also a little longer, curls wisping out from underneath the beanie he has on.

But his eyes haven’t changed a bit, a warm brown that immediately invites her in - sending her back to her sixteen year old self and the horrendously obvious crush that she had on him back then. 

Michelle’s not the sixteen year old she was then, entirely more confident and at ease with herself and her surroundings that she sounds a lot more confident than she feels when she says, “Wow, long time no see.”

“Yeah, it’s been what… eight years?” 

“Something like that yeah,” Michelle says with a smile, “how’ve you been?” 

“Good, you know. Same ole, same ole,” Peter laughs, scratching the back of his neck before asking, “And you? I didn’t know you were back in the city.”

“I’m not, I’m actually here for Betty Brant’s wedding.” 

Peter looks mildly surprised at that, Michelle inwardly cringing at the realization that for as close as she still was to Betty, Peter clearly wasn’t. 

“Oh that’s awesome. I didn’t know she was seeing someone,” Peter says cheerfully, Michelle searching for some kind of hurt in his eyes and finding none. “Who’s the lucky person? Anyone I know?” 

He says it teasingly, just enough snark that it sends Michelle straight back to high school - when the two of them would fire at each other back and forth during Decathlon meetings. A thrill of how she felt back then rushes through her when she sees the way Peter’s eyes widen as she says, “Yeah actually, Jason Ionello if you can believe it.”

“Betty and _Jason?_ ” Peter squawks, just loudly enough for a guy on his laptop to look at Peter and glare at him. 

Michelle barely holds back a laugh as Peter works to compose himself, looking at Michelle with a bewildered expression as he says in a quieter tone, “Sorry, I just. I never would’ve put them together. I thought they hated each other back in high school.”

“Fine line between love and hate. They got set up on a blind date and just went with it. Guess all that tension in high school just helped them out,” Michelle says flippantly, Peter smiling back at her as he says, “Yeah, I guess so.”

An awkward silence falls between before they both try and speak at the same time, Michelle catching the way Peter blushes before saying, “You go ahead.”

“You come here often?”

Michelle doesn’t mean for it to sound as awkward as it does but it’s the exact thing to break whatever ice is between them, Peter laughing so hard and so loud that the same guy from before glaring at Peter once again. 

Michelle grins despite herself, Peter shaking his head as he says, “Yeah, actually. I live just a few blocks that way,” nodding towards the window before continuing, “quiet place to drop in before work.”

“Where do you work now? You went to ESU right?”

Peter nods, a smile on his face that looks almost surprised that Michelle remembered as he says, “Yeah, yeah I did. I work at the Bugle now as a photographer.”

“A _photographer_?” Michelle asks incredulously, making a face. 

Peter laughs. “Don’t judge, the pay’s decent and I don’t know,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “feels right.”

“Oh I’m definitely judging you, Parker. Didn’t you have an internship with Stark Industries in _high school_?” Michelle asks with a smirk, relishing the way Peter’s eyes flash with something before his face transforms into a teasing smile. 

“Rich coming from someone who was the lead of the drama club at Harvard,” he counters, Michelle rolling her eyes. “Would’ve thought you of all people would appreciate art as a real skill.”

“It is, I do,” Michelle says, “but I didn’t think _you_ would choose to become a starving artist considering you interned for the biggest tech conglomerate when you were a teenager.” 

“Didn’t think you cared too much about SI to begin with,” he counters, folding his arms together.

Michelle mirrors the action, leaning back as she says, “I don’t, but damn if I had to work for a corporate billionaire overlord or the trash fire that is the _Bugle_ for the sake of ‘art’, I’d be a class traitor any day. Especially since you were what like, Tony Stark’s personal intern?” 

Peter playfully rolls his eyes at that, Michelle’s smirk turning into a genuine smile as he says, “I’ll be sure to let Tony know you agree with him.”

He catches the slip just as Michelle does, Michelle pouncing as she says, “You guys are still in touch?”

“Professionally, you know. He was-- he _is_ a good mentor. Argues that I should make the jump to SI pretty much anytime I see him,” Peter quickly says, grumbling that last bit with a twinge of something that makes Michelle convinced that her wild theories of Peter’s history weren’t that wild after all. 

“Didn’t think I’d ever see the day when I’d say I agree with Tony Stark but…” Michelle trails off, Peter laughing again as he unfurls his arms, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“So how about you?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re at Princeton now right?” He asks, looking as if he already knows the answer but is being polite about asking the question. 

Michelle nods as she says, “Yeah, I’m getting my PhD in social policy.”

Peter whistles at that before saying, “Dr. Jones. Sounds good, fits you.”

Michelle feels a tingle down her spine at that, ignoring the way her stomach churns at Peter’s expression as she says, “Not _yet_. I got at least another year, maybe two.”

Peter just shrugs again as if that was just a technicality. “You’ll get there. You’ve always been good about getting what you want.”

”Not always,” Michelle says slyly, “couldn’t get you to show up to decathlon practice on time.”

Peter laughs, “Yeah well. That was on me, not you.” 

They stare at each other for a beat then, a flutter of something in her chest that Michelle hasn’t felt in ages about Peter Parker - only for the spell to be broken when the barista calls out Peter’s name. 

Peter thanks her before turning back to Michelle, an unreadable expression on his face as she realizes that for as long as it’s been since the two of them had seen each other - it was as if no time had passed at all, slipping right back into the kind of banter that had _just_ eluded them when they were in high school.

Peter Parker was an enigma in high school, an endless source of fascination for Michelle who was convinced that there was more to him then met the eye. They’d been friends, in the weird way that nerds in a school full of nerds banded together. For a while it had felt as if they were on a trajectory towards becoming _best_ friends, Peter making more of an active effort to be a part of Decathlon and the activities at Midtown after homecoming their sophomore year - something that Michelle was convinced she knew the reason behind. 

That reason was all but confirmed during their junior year, blipping out of existence for what felt like an instant to them only to learn that it was five years for everyone else.

Michelle could still vividly remember what those first few weeks had been like - both her parents having blipped just as she had, figuring out how to navigate a new world together in a way that arguably should’ve brought them together but only further drove them apart. When school finally started again, Michelle was all too focused on her own life and figuring out how to readjust to a world that had changed too much to focus on the world of Peter Parker. 

She knew that the Avengers had played a part in bringing the world back together, the lingering suspicion in the back of her mind that Peter must’ve played some part in it all because of the haunted look in his eyes when they passed each other in the hall of school. But even when the Blipped kids found their own new form of normal, senior year was underway and all of Michelle’s attention was shifted towards college - angling for a future she wasn’t even sure she could still have all things considered.

Staring into Peter’s eyes again, a hopeful and almost expectant look on his face, brought her back to all those silly daydreams she used to have - chance encounters just like this one where she could finally ask him all the questions she hadn’t been brave enough to do so when she was young.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought of Peter at all in the intervening years - Spider-Man showing up on her social media feeds from old friends from Midtown, sometimes even national headlines when he joined up with the remaining Avengers on some kind of potentially world ending disaster. 

They’d stayed in the touch in the same way everyone did after graduation - social media, random likes on each other’s pages - even if Peter was less active on any social platform than Michelle was, yet another confirmation in Michelle’s mind about the secret that he’d never shared with her. 

This was the kind of scenario she had day dreamed about when she was a teenager - the random chance to see him, casually drop hints that she _knew_ and to watch in amusement as he stumbled over himself - the Peter in her head being the same awkward, bumbling guy with a sharp tongue that he’d been when they were kids. 

But for as as confident and relatively self-assured as she was now, Michelle was at a loss for what to say just then - the Peter in front of her not even _looking_ as he had when they were in high school, the recognition that she didn’t know anymore of who he was now than she really did then. 

The polite thing now was to say goodbye, give each other assurances that they’d keep in touch, knowing full well neither of them would do so. Yet all Michelle could think of in that moment is how much she _wanted_ to keep in touch, to hear more about what Peter’s life had been like in the almost decade since the last time they’d spent any length of time with each other.

But Michelle hadn’t come into the city for him, her phone buzzing again with no doubt yet another text from Betty to see where she was. 

“It was--”

“It’s nice--“

They both smile, Michelle twisting her lips together as Peter says, “You look great, MJ. It’s-- it’s really good to see you.”

“Yeah, same here.”

“Tell Betty I said congratulations,” Peter says, seemingly deciding something within himself as he smiles - Michelle noticing the tightness around his eyes as he does so. 

“I will,” Michelle replies, inexplicably feeling disappointed even if rationally she knows that she shouldn’t - the mystery of Peter Parker being something that she hadn’t thought about in years, a mystery that for all intents and purposes, wasn’t ever going to be something she was going to solve. 

It shouldn’t bother her and yet inexplicably it did, Michelle barely holding back her disappointment as she psyches herself up to give some kind of nice platitude when Peter surprises her, shaking himself before saying, “Are you busy today?”

“Huh?”

“I mean obviously, you’re busy. You’re here for Betty’s wedding,” Peter says, almost rambling - sounding more like how he did all those years ago as he presses forward, “but I mean, it’s Friday so is the wedding tonight or--”

“Tomorrow,” Michelle says, “Lots of last minute stuff before the big day and the rehearsal dinner.”

Peter nods once before saying, “Yeah, makes sense.”

It’s awkward again for a beat before he says, “Anyway, um. I know this might be kind of weird, I know it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other but it was uh, it was really good to see you. And I’d like to catch up, if you want to. You know, if you have time to--”

“Yes,” Michelle answers impulsively, feeling more like a sixteen-year-old girl with a crush rather than the twenty-six year old woman she actually was. 

“Yes, you’d like to…” Peter trails off, Michelle nodding a bit more affirmatively.

“Yes.”

Peter looks almost surprised by her words only for his face to break out into a relieved smile, nodding his head again so much that he looks like a bobblehead.

“Good, good awesome that’d-- that’d be great. Here I’ll give you my number” he says, balancing his coffee in one hand and grabbing his phone out of his pocket in the other.

They exchange information, just when Michelle’s coffee order is ready - grabbing it and finding herself walking out with Peter. 

She’s glad that the rain has let up that she doesn’t have to try and scramble for her umbrella, not trusting herself or her hands to be steady enough - a rush of giddiness flowing through her that she doesn’t want to dwell too much on. 

“So um, I’ll text you? Maybe we can meet up sometime this weekend?” Peter asks, his voice with just enough hope in it that it makes Michelle’s stomach do a flip - her heart beating a mile a minute as he smiles. 

“Yeah, I’ll be here till Sunday night. It’s an early wedding so I’m pretty much free whenever,” Michelle says, barely holding back the grimace for how desperate she sounds. 

But Peter doesn’t even seem to notice, his smile just growing even wider as he says, “Great, yeah that’s-- that’s great.”

They stare at each other for a beat before both seemingly realizing that they have other places to be, Michelle smiling as she nods in the direction of the subway station.

“I gotta go to--”

“Yeah, yeah I got work,” Peter interjects, the smile on his face so bright that it’s almost blinding - Michelle trying to remember if Peter used to smile this much when they were back in high school yet also not wanting to think too much about it, feeling the smile on her own face.

“Text me,” she says more definitively, taking a step backwards. 

“I will,” Peter says, Michelle holding his gaze for a moment before she moves to turn away from him. 

Every logical and rational thought tells her that it’s the kind of platitude _anyone_ said when meeting up with an old friend. But as she begins to walk away, turning over her shoulder only for the flutter in her chest to grow when she notices that Peter’s still staring at her - all Michelle can think is that Peter meant every word of it. 

Michelle smiles once more before turning back towards the subway - walking with purpose and with a smile on her face, feeling Peter’s eyes on her every step of the way. 


	2. Were There Clues I Didn’t See?

“MJ?”

“Hmm?” Michelle turns to Betty, catching the confused look on her face.

“You okay? You’ve been out of it all day,” Betty asks, an undercurrent of curiosity that Michelle is quick to want to avoid - knowing Betty well enough by now that if she got her scent on the idea that Michelle was hiding something, she’d pounce.

“Just running through all the stuff I gotta do before tomorrow,” Michelle cooly lies, Betty’s eyebrow raising as Michelle leans over the bathroom counter to apply her lipstick.

It’d been Betty’s idea for the bridesmaids to get ready together for the rehearsal dinner, some hell bent intent on bonding that Michelle thought was sweet, in the same way Betty was. 

Betty was driven, smart and perennially popular - collecting friends like she did awards for her work in journalism, though Michelle never got the impression that she saw her friendships as ornamental. The problem was that in trying to bring together the strings of all the people she’d become friends with over the years, Betty’s choice of bridesmaids only served as a reminder that her taste in people was varied and as it was eclectic.

“You need any help with that?” Felicia Hardy slyly asks from her perch on the bed, Michelle shooting her a look only to catch the smirk on her face as Michelle applies her lipstick. 

“No, I’m good,” Michelle says, ignoring the intended double intent as she pops the lipstick container back on, “Irina’s got the flowers taken care of and Mariah’s making sure the makeup artist will be here on time.”

Felicia hums, Michelle not missing the way her eyes travel up and down as she walks back to the bathroom.

“Let me know if you change your mind, kitten,” Felicia almost purs, “I’m pretty good with my hands.”

“Can you please stop flirting with my friends and help me with this dress?” Betty asks, distracting Felicia from going any further with that as Michelle holds back a laugh. 

“Can’t blame a girl for trying, B,” Felicia says, winking at Michelle before dutifully coming behind Betty to snap the elaborate rehearsal dress she’d picked out together. “It’s not my fault you have cute friends.”

“She’s right,” Mary Jane says with a smirk, flicking her long red hair over her shoulder as she primps in the mirror, “It’s not our fault you surround yourself with pretty people.”

Betty laughs at that, Michelle smiling and catching Mary Jane’s smirk in the mirrored reflection as Betty says, “Okay, okay, you caught me. Surrounded by beautiful ladies is my weakness.”

“Isn’t it everyone’s?” Felicia says, tweaking Betty’s side as she laughs again. “You look beautiful, B.”

“You do,” Michelle echoes, Felicia looking pleased at that as Betty beams. 

“Thanks. And so do you three. Really, this is like, the best day and it’s not even _tomorrow_.” 

Betty’s voice hitches at the end of that, Mary Jane walking right up to her with a stern look on her face - green eyes flashing as she points a finger to Betty’s face. 

“Nope, nuh uh. I did a _perfect_ job on that eyeliner and you are _not_ messing that up.” 

Betty puts on a brave face, instantly looking chided even if Michelle can see the way her chin wobbles. “You _guys_ . I’m getting _married_. And you all are gonna be there!” 

Mary Jane’s expression immediately softens, a crack in the no-nonsense facade that tells Michelle more about her in five seconds than the past five hours had. 

Getting to know Betty’s college friends had been a welcome distraction over the past couple of hours, pulling her away from thoughts of what Peter was doing or when he was going to text her. Michelle never regretted going to Harvard but being around Felicia and Mary Jane - seeing the clear bond between the three of them - made her wonder if in another life, she would’ve enjoyed going to Wellesley as much as Betty clearly had. 

It’s distracting enough that as Betty extends her arms out, beckoning Felicia, Mary Jane and Michelle into them, she puts away any thoughts about Peter - focusing in on the whole reason she’d come into the city in the first place. 

* * *

That doesn’t last for long when Michelle, content to listen to Betty and the rest of the bridesmaids chatter as they make their way down to the room where the rehearsal dinner will be, feels her phone buzz in her hand.

She glances to it quickly, thinking it’s her mom getting back to her only to smile when she sees whose name flashes across the screen.

“Oooh who’s got you smiling like that?” She hears Mary Jane ask, thankfully whispering as she leans in closer to her. Michelle brings the phone down before saying, “No one. Just an old friend.”

“Old friend huh?” Mary Jane smiles, green eyes almost sparkling with mischief as she says, “old friend got a history?”

They walk in tandem with each other, Mary Jane having the sense to slow down their stride just as Michelle does - as if she somehow understood that this was a conversation that Michelle wouldn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Not really,” Michelle answers honestly, surprising herself considering it took much more than a few hours and a glass of champagne to usually get her to open up. But there was something warm and inviting in Mary Jane’s expression, the teasing that she’d engaged in so easily when paired with Felicia replaced with something that immediately connected her to Michelle in a way she couldn’t explain. 

“Not really as in _not really_ or not really as in ‘not really but I wanted to’?” Mary Jane asks, a surprising yet not so surprising at all amount of depth in the way her eyes pierce into Michelle’s. 

It’s striking - the color, the empathy in them - as if Mary Jane was seeing shades of her that Michelle rarely allowed people to see. Her friendship with Betty now makes even more sense to her, knowing her oldest friend from Midtown was popular and witty but valued honesty above all else. 

The fact that Mary Jane was able to hit right at the thing that Michelle had so easily avoided all morning and afternoon wasn’t lost on her, chewing the inside of her cheek before saying, “I don’t know.”

Mary Jane levels a look at her as if she doesn’t believe her, only for Michelle to clarify, “We knew each other back in high school. After the Blip, things were… complicated.”

Mary Jane’s expression changes at that, a look that Michelle instantly recognizes from having seen it too many times before. People who were Blipped talked about the universe shattering event with a sense of ambivalence, a thing that happened to them but wasn’t really about them - more focused on trying to readjust to a world that had moved on without them.

People who lived _through_ the Blip - five long years where a world had to try and do the rebuilding, only to make room once again for the billions brought back - talked about it with a sense of weight to it - as if it was something that was a _part_ of them. 

From the look in Mary Jane’s eyes, Michelle could sense that she was a part of the latter as she says, “I mean, you know.”

“Yeah, I do,” Mary Jane says softly, three octaves lower than she’s heard her speak at as she continues, “you two were Blipped?”

Michelle nods, eyes traveling over to where Betty and Felicia were deep in conversation, their laughter echoing throughout the hallway as they made their way to the elevator. 

“It’s complicated. We were all friends, he was actually on the Decathlon team with Betty and I.”

“I’m guessing he wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

Michelle’s expression must be all the answer she needs, Mary Jane nudging her with her elbow as she says, “I’m sure if you told B that you ran into an old buddy that she wouldn’t mind. Especially since you didn’t bring a plus one.”

The thought of seeing Peter again so soon was certainly tempting - the unread notification on her phone still beckoning her to answer - but the idea of bringing him to a _wedding_ of all things immediately sent red flags up, quickly shaking her head as Michelle says, “No, no I’m good. He just texted so--”

“Who texted?” Felicia asks, Michelle and Mary Jane’s attention both shifting to her and Betty - the latter now looking expectantly at her. 

“Adam,” Mary Jane jumps in, “Jason should be on his way down too.”

Betty absolutely beams at that, the kind of lovesick expression on her face that if Michelle didn’t know Betty better would assume came straight out of some kind of movie scene as she says, “Mr. Ionello already knows not to be late.”

“Not when he’s got you, _Mrs_. Ionella,” Mary Jane quips back, getting the intended reaction of Betty who laughs. 

“Not yet! Don’t jinx it MJ!” 

Michelle quirks an eyebrow at that, Betty immediately waving her hands between the two of them.

“Sorry, sorry. I forgot you guys both had the same nickname.”

Michelle smirks, looking back to Mary Jane who looks utterly amused. 

“Glad to know how easily you replaced me when you got to college, Betty,” Michelle says teasingly, Felicia rolling her eyes and looping her arm through Betty’s. 

“Ain’t no _replacing_ doll, Betty just loves surrounding herself with good women.”

Michelle smiles at that, the four of them heading to the elevator as Betty says, “obviously.”

Before they step in, Michelle sends Mary Jane a quick thank you by way of a smile - something that Mary Jane instantly seems to understand in a way that for anyone else would unnerve her.

She takes a deep breath as they crowd in, her fingers flexing over her phone as she smiles - humming with residual excitement emanating off of Betty and from the possibilities that were held in the single text sent from Peter.

Michelle was smart enough to recognize that it was just a text, the chance for a casual meet up between old friends - that Mary Jane was right and if she brought it up, Betty would be more than accommodating and would possibly even feel bad for not inviting literally everyone she knew from Midtown. 

Michelle doesn’t bring it up though, trying once again to focus on the task at hand - even if the weight of the unread text feels heavy in her hand. 

* * *

  
Peter it seems has changed in many ways in high school.

Michelle could still remember the weeks both before and after homecoming their sophomore year, the embarrassing number of unanswered texts and voicemails that she’d sent to him all in the hopes of trying to become more of a friend to him in the only awkward way she’d known how.

It was mortifying to think of now, if Michelle would even allow herself to be mortified about, but was quickly becoming the least embarrassing interaction between the two of them. 

As soon as she was able to in a way that wasn’t rude to Betty, Jason or any of the other guests, Michelle checked through Peter’s _texts_ \- seeing him send her a cursory hello before he asked her a few questions of how everything was going and if she wanted to meet him afterwards. 

Michelle replied, only to be immediately surprised for how quick Peter responded - a smile on her face that she was glad that Felicia couldn’t see her from this angle of the table, knowing she’d be hard pressed to pass that off as a reflection of Betty’s great aunt’s droning speech. 

The rest of the night passed like this - talking with party guests as much as much as was socially acceptable before checking her phone for new messages from Peter, their banter from the coffee shop easily transitioning into a text exchange that made Michelle feel warm from the inside out. 

They talked about nothing important - Michelle filling in details about the rehearsal dinner and anecdotes from the speeches with Peter giving just the right amount of feedback. It was a back and forth that just danced around anything important, as if Peter was holding back from asking anything beyond the surface.

Whether this was because she was supposed to be busy or whether it was some kind of means of saving the meat of their conversations to when they could actually meet face to face again, Michelle didn’t know. 

But it’s when the night was drawing to a close, Michelle snapping off a joke in reply to something Peter said that it finally turned towards what the whole purpose in exchanging numbers had been.

 **Peter** : What time’s the wedding over again?

 **MJ** : Noon, or so Betty says. It starts at nine. Who DOES that?

Michelle couldn’t see Peter’s face but she could imagine his laugh, especially from the way the text bubbles started, stopped then started again as he replied.

 **Peter** : I mean it’s Betty and Jason. Betty and JASON, MJ. Isn’t that kind of fitting, considering how they met?

It was Michelle’s turn to laugh, wondering for a moment if he was right even if she didn’t dare ask Betty about it - not least of which for how completely enamored she was currently with her husband to be across the banquet hall. 

**MJ** : My bad. 

**Peter** : Definitely your bad. Come on, MJ. I thought you were observant ;) 

Michelle smirks at that, quickly tapping out her reply as Jason’s dad gave the finishing touches to his speech - thankfully the _last_ of them. 

**MJ** : Observant enough to know there’s a reason you asked when the wedding’s over. What’d you have in mind?

Michelle waits as Peter’s text bubble start then pause - putting her phone down for a moment as Jason’s dad finally wraps up, the room giving one last cheer as Betty and Jason share a kiss before they all start to disperse for the night. When Michelle checks her phone again, she sees several messages from Peter.

 **Peter** : I know you’re probably gonna be exhausted and will have probably already eaten lunch so maybe coffee?

 **Peter** : We can totally get lunch if you want. I don’t know what they’ll have but it’s a wedding. You eat at weddings right?

 **Peter** : Anyway lunch or no lunch, I’m thinking coffee. Second Street again, around 1?

Michelle’s about to reply when another message comes in.

 **Peter** : Or not, if that doesn’t work. I think they serve food there. 

She laughs to herself, grabbing her clutch and standing up from her chair as she texts back.

 **MJ** : I’ll be well-fed promise. Second Street at 1 sounds great

Peter immediately likes the message then sends a few thumbs up emojis, Michelle shaking her head before pushing her chair in. 

She lifts her head up, only to catch Mary Jane’s eyes on her once again - a smirk on her face as if she somehow _knows_ , Michelle knowing that’s impossible yet finding herself smiling back all the same. 

* * *

Michelle feels silly for how excited she feels as she walks up the subway stop, making her way back to Second Street as she tightens her grip on her coat. 

Betty and Jason’s wedding was as beautiful and as perfect as they’d planned it - everything going off relatively without a hitch. Michelle didn’t make it a habit of crying in public but she _almost_ messed up her streak when the two of them had their first dance - watching the two of them look as if they were completely lost in their own little world. 

All Michelle could think about - both then and now as she walked across the street - was how much things had changed between the two of them since high school. Peter had been right to be surprised - of the few former Midtown classmates who’d actually been in attendance, Michelle had caught up with some of them, mostly Cindy Moon and Susan Yang who both remembered a time when Jason and Betty seemed like they would sooner kill each other than kiss. 

Now they were married, off to the Poconos for their honeymoon and Michelle officially relieved of her bridesmaids duties - the numbers of Felicia and Mary Jane on her cell phone with the promise that they should all meet up again soon, yet another promise that Michelle finds herself believing would actually happen despite having no evidence to the contrary. 

Maybe there was just something about this weekend, something about the rain and city air that gave Michelle a sense of hope that maybe people could actually mean what they say - crossing the street with ease and ducking into Second Street just when more rain’s starting to pour, wishing that she hadn’t forgotten her umbrella this time around. 

As soon as Michelle steps in, she’s greeted by the same barista from the day before - smiling at her before scanning the room only for that smile to fall. 

Michelle was a few minutes late - courtesy of the MTA - but she’d accounted for that, guessing that for all the ways that Peter Parker had changed since high school that his perpetual lateness wouldn’t be one of them. 

She was right, ten minutes past one and Peter being nowhere in sight. 

Michelle walks up to the counter and places her order, grabbing her cell phone out of her coat pocket and checking to see if she had any apologetic texts or messages from Peter - only to frown when she sees no notifications. 

She double checks their text thread - the last few messages being some joke Peter had sent her about a reference from the wedding, only to scroll up and confirm the time and the place they were supposed to be meeting. 

Michelle feels silly for double-checking, telling herself that she already knew Peter was going to be late - for reasons that she’s sure not only have to do with being Peter Parker but potentially the _other_ thing, swallowing down the disappointment she knows she shouldn’t feel as she pays for her order.

Michelle doesn’t stand by the counter this time as she waits for her drink, scanning the fairly busy coffee shop and finding an open table. She takes off her coat, claiming a nice spot by the window that made her wonder why it was free only to see that there was no available outlets - the college students she saw huddled around those that did. 

She sits, bringing out her phone and mindlessly scrolling through social media for a bit - liking some of the posts from Betty and Jason’s wedding feed. By the time Michelle has her drink and is back at the table it’s fifteen past - Michelle wondering if she should send a text to see if Peter was okay yet wondering if that would be too obvious. 

Michelle was too old to play games, the kind of back and forth teasing that everyone had done in high school being something she hadn’t cared to do then and certainly didn’t now. But Michelle wasn’t quite sure how to ask the question when she already knew the answer - that Peter was likely off fighting some kind of nonsense in the city and would, in the best of circumstances, be unable to answer any text she sent. 

Considering she’s not supposed to know about his alter ego, Michelle sends the text anyway - letting him know she’s got a table by the window, feeling even sillier as she places her phone back on the table.

An old feeling of being left out comes back to her, one that she hadn’t felt in years - not since high school, when she’d not so subtly eavesdropped on the conversations that Ned and Peter would have about his Spider-Man antics. 

It was a wonder that more people hadn’t found out that Peter was Spider-Man, considering his complete lack of self-preservation back in high school - though Michelle wondered if that changed much considering he now worked for the _Bugle_. She’s wildly curious about that career decision, not least of which because of his ties with Stark Industries but because she knows the truth - wondering what kind of person it took to work at the very same news organization that made a name for itself in tearing a part of yourself down.

She taps her fingers against the table, fingers itching over the phone before stopping herself - reminding herself that she was a grown ass woman. A grown ass woman getting her _doctorate_. Michelle was smarter than this, to be pining over how late her old high school crush was in meeting up with her - not even considering the likely reason. 

The hum of the coffee shop is easy enough to distract her, taking a sip of her coffee and engaging in some people-watching - taking note of the college kids to her left and the older gentleman reading a newspaper, only for her eyes to land on the cover story. 

It’s a feature of Spider-Man from the _Times_ because of course it is - Michelle almost choking on her coffee as she sets it down. The older man looks up at her, as if he knew that she was staring at him - smiling kindly at her and nodding. 

Embarrassed for being caught, Michelle smiles and nods back - only to hear a shocked gasp from the table behind her. She goes to look and see what caused it when she feels it - the whole coffee shop shaking as if they were having an earthquake.

Time moves in slow motion, several things happening at once. 

Michelle’s phone starts to buzz - not from the table shaking but from a phone call, Michelle’s hand hovering over it only to hear someone scream - turning towards the window. 

She sees a man or what looks like a man outfitted in an armored suit, barreling straight towards them. Michelle grabs her phone and stands, the people around her rushing away just as she does - only for her stomach to drop when she sees the guy get punched to the side, a familiar blur of red and blue slamming into him from the side. 

The guy actually _roars_ at that, Michelle’s heart leaping up to her throat when she sees him grab at Spider-Man - _Peter_ \- taking hold of him and slamming him down to the ground.

Everything in Michelle is telling her to run - to safety, away, to Peter, she doesn’t know - but she’s suddenly immobilized, staring in horror as the guy in the big suit yells something indistinguishable. 

Michelle’s phone is still buzzing, fingers twitching - knowing she should answer it but finding that she can’t - too focused on Peter still on the ground as she takes another step back. 

Her eyes widen when she sees the guy in the armored suit grab a car, fear immediately churning in her gut when he raises it above his head - thinking for a brief second that he’s about to slam it down onto Peter.

That fear is immediately replaced with sheer terror as the guy roars again, choosing instead to throw the car straight ahead.

A path that brings the car, suspended in slow motion, directly towards Second Street’s window.


	3. Cutting Me Open Then Healing Me Fine

Fight or flight. 

Michelle hasn’t been put in a lot of positions over the years to debate how she would respond but always guessed - given the chance - that she would fight. 

Yet fight isn’t what flows through her as the car rushes towards them, not in the traditional sense. Michelle doesn’t have super powers or any weapon that she can use. But she has a fight to survive, her eyes widening as she yells out, “Get down!”

Her eyes immediately move to the older gentlemen across from her, grabbing him to the ground as the car crashes into the window - the screams of the people around her are drowned out by the crunch of glass and metal as the two of them hit the ground. 

Michelle’s head snaps so hard against the coffee shop’s floor it’s painful, a burning sensation all up and down her arms as glass, wood from the table and other debris fall over the two of them - putting her hands over her head on instinct. 

She thinks she must black out for a second, feeling dizzy as she opens her eyes - only to see the worried facial features of the older man, his eyes wide and looking terrified as she coughs. 

“You okay miss?” He says, Michelle nodding as she asks back, “You?”

“Cause of you, thank-- thank you,” his voice wobbles, hand shaking as he extends it out to Michelle. Michelle reaches a hand out to him only to blink a few times in confusion, catching the blood along her fingers. 

“Oh shit,” she whispers, the older man’s eyes widening even further as Michelle blinks, moving her hand back - wincing as she does so. 

Her arm was throbbing in pain but a quick glance showed that it likely looked more serious than it was. Being head of the drama club along with her stint as an RA in college had given her enough fake and real blood experience to know that this wasn’t anything she should be too concerned about.

That doesn’t stop the older man’s protestations, immediately apologizing as Michelle goes to sit up - shaking her head.

It’s an action she instantly regrets, wincing as she moves to a sitting position and says, “I’m— I’m okay, are you—“

Neither of them get to continue their apologetic dance back and forth when they both hear yet another roar, the reminder for what had caused the damage in the first place.

Fear and adrenaline shoot through her veins in equal measure, scrambling to get up and to help the older man with her - her head screaming in pain from the sudden movements but ignoring it as they scramble out of the still intact door of Second Street - a few people just outside of it helping them out.

It was like falling back into a second skin, the instant camaraderie she felt with these people - a by-product of growing up in New York with the Avengers. People in Boston used to ask her dozens of questions about what life was like in the city - the stereotypical quickly pushed aside in favor of the super, listening with wide-eyed expressions when she passively explained what it was like to run away from aliens or super-powered idiots on any kind of consistent basis.

Michelle had forgotten how normal all of this is - as normal as seeing a guy in a mechanized suit that now that she’s looking at it reminds her of a rhino, could be. She takes a few steps forward when she hears the gasp of the crowd around her, looking back and watching in horror as Spider-Man - _Peter_ \- gets picked up and flung to the side.

“INSECT!” The guy yells out, Michelle’s arm throbbing in pain and yet inexplicably wanting to distract him - her mind racing through the different possibilities when she hears Peter’s distinct voice call out, “Actually, I’m an arachnid.”

Michelle turns in surprise just as the rhino looking dude does, feeling her mouth open to shock to see Peter there too. 

He does a double take, looking down at Peter before turning back to the second Peter - Michelle blinking a few times in shock as the guy roars, bracing himself to barrel into Peter.

Yet in the split second before he does, Michelle sees it - the second “Peter” flickering as if he was some kind of mirage, making her wonder just what the hell Peter had been up to in the years since she’d known him.

The rhino guy rushes forward, going to attack only for the double to dematerialize as soon as he does - the rhino guy roaring again.

But before he has the chance to cause any more havoc, Peter - the real one, Michelle thinks - sends out a web, using it to propel himself forward and land a devastating punch.

It’s not enough to knock the rhino guy out but it throws him off balance, Michelle watching in amazement as he stumbles back - Peter sending out multiple webs to pin him to the ground. It’s almost like art, Peter shooting off webs over and over again as the rhino guy roars again - only for one final web sent over his mouth.

“And _stay_ down,” Peter says cheekily, Michelle letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as people around her start to cheer.

It’s then that Peter turns around, Michelle guessing from his body language that he’d been too preoccupied with the fight to really take in that he had an audience.

An audience that includes her - feeling the white eyes of the mask zeroing in on her, before moving towards where she is. 

“Are you okay? Is everyone alright?” Michelle would laugh if she wasn’t still feeling a little like she was in shock, the last sentence sounding as if it was tacked on as an afterthought.

Peter’s voice is so distinctive and clear, Michelle wonders how anyone in his life could ever not put two and two together. Yet despite the fact that she knows whose under the mask, Peter doesn’t know that - Michelle pressing her lips together and nodding her head before wincing.

“We’re okay, Spider-Man,” someone says next to her, Michelle watching as Peter glances around - seemingly taking stock for himself about any injuries.

“Ma’am are you okay?” He asks, the question directed towards her as Michelle looks at him straight on.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Thanks… Spider-Man.”

The eyes of the mask blink once, Michelle’s eyes boring into them for a beat before his head turns - Michelle hearing the sirens in the distance growing louder.

“Sounds like that’s my cue,” Peter says, Michelle trying to remember the state of Spider-Man’s relationship with cops when he turns back to her and says, “You’re hurt.”

Michelle follows his line of sight, glancing down at her arm before saying, “I’ll be fine.”

“You should—“

“I’m waiting for a friend,” Michelle interjects, feeling as if they were the only two on the street despite the crowd surrounding them. “I should be here. In case he shows up.”

She watches as Peter flinches, a woman next to her saying, “We’ll make sure she gets checked out. You should go, Spider-Man. Before they get here.”

Someone murmurs an agreement, Michelle feeling the tension emanating off of him as a guy says, “Thank you, Spider-Man.”

Peter nods to him, looking back to Michelle.

It’s only for a second and yet Michelle can’t help but feel as if it lasts for an infinity - wishing she could see his facial expressions under the mask yet knowing for as long as it’s been, she may not be able to read it anyway. Everything about his body language indicates to her that he wants to reach forward, Michelle wondering if she’s just projecting the idea that Peter wants to check on her but knowing he can’t without letting her know it’s _him_. 

Then again, Michelle knows she’s always been very observant, correctly guessing by the twitch of Peter’s fingers that she’s not far off in her guess. 

Before Michelle can try and give him some kind of out - _what_ that would be, she’s not sure - Peter seems to decide something for himself as he sends out a hand and swings away, the crowd watching him as he does.

People start to crowd around her and the older gentlemen, a few others with a few scrapes and bruises.

But Michelle’s eyes are focused elsewhere - looking over to where Spider-Man disappeared to and feeling, even if she couldn’t see him, as if she was being watched. 

* * *

That feeling is confirmed not even fifteen minutes later, Michelle hanging out at the end of an ambulance as an EMT checks her out when she sees a familiar head of hair barreling towards her.

“MJ! MJ, are you okay? Is--”

“I’m fine, I’m okay,” she says, staring meaningfully at Peter, “Just a couple of cuts.”

The paramedic raises an eyebrow before saying, “Cuts you only got I heard cause you saved someone. Don’t diminish yourself, sweetheart. If your boyfriend can’t handle a hero, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

Peter’s ears turn bright red at that and Michelle feels her insides warm but she ignores that, Peter doing the same as he looks more pointedly at Michelle and says, “I’m so sorry I was late.”

His voice catches at that, Michelle searching his face and seeing something in it that makes her want to tell him that she knows. Peter’s guilt is so thick it rests over the both of them, Michelle swallowing it down in her own throat before saying, “It’s fine.”

“It’s not--” Peter cuts himself off, looking over to the wrecked window front of Second Street before looking back to Michelle before whispering, “It’s _not_ fine, MJ.” 

Michelle doesn’t quite know how to answer that - a thousand things running across the tip of her tongue but none of them being something that she feels she can say to his face, much less with the paramedic still carefully attending to the cuts on her arms. 

“Maybe we should’ve gone to lunch instead,” Michelle offers, Peter letting out a laugh that sounds slightly strangled as the paramedic finishes up, applying some tape to the bandage before leaning back.

“You should be all set. I’d much rather you go to the hospital with us, get that head checked out just in--”

“I’m okay,” Michelle says, dismissing it even as both the paramedic and Peter frown. 

“MJ, we can meet up another time. You don’t have to--”

“No, I’m-- I feel okay,” Michelle says, not really wanting to go to the hospital for several reasons, the most pressing being the cost of waiting around the emergency room to get checked and told she’d be okay would be disastrous to her budget, even with the flimsy insurance being a grad student provides her. 

Yet there was also a small - stubborn and entirely juvenile - that did _not_ want to postpone this meeting with Peter. Michelle had daydreamed about this moment for years and now with adrenaline still thrumming in her system, she wonders if this would finally be the opportunity she’s been waiting for. 

A distant part of her recognizes that she’s being silly, that even if she gets the chance to spend anymore time with Peter today that he’ll be distracted - the guilt written all over his face making her second guess her fervency in wanting to talk to him about what is likely one of the most personal, soul-crushing secrets of his life.

Michelle wants to tell him that she knows but she wants _Peter_ to tell her that even more so - trying to swallow down the desire to want to talk to Peter about this and simultaneously not wanting to manipulate the situation to her benefit. 

It was a secret that wasn’t hers to have, a secret that Peter clearly hadn’t trusted her with to share - a thought that Michelle knows is unfair considering they weren’t that close of friends to begin with in high school in the first place. 

Despite the conflicted feelings she has flowing through her, Michelle is convinced that she doesn’t want to go to the hospital - giving a small smile to the paramedic as she helps her stand, Peter immediately rushing forward to help her up as well. 

“A late lunch wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” the paramedic offers before turning to Peter, “as well as making sure she keeps watch on that arm.”

Peter nods as if he’s taking her words as a personal responsibility as he says, “I live just a few blocks from here. I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

“ _She’s_ right here and can take of herself,” Michelle says, Peter looking rightfully shamed as the paramedic laughs. 

“No one’s arguing that hon, but it’s never a bad thing to let someone help you.”

Michelle swallows at that, suddenly intimately aware of Peter’s hands on her shoulder - right at the same time Peter does, bringing them down as he searches her face. 

“Thank you,” Michelle says to the paramedic by way of responding before turning back to Peter.

“You want to…” Peter says awkwardly, looking more like the sixteen-year old she had a massive, embarrassing crush on just then than the twenty-six year old _superhero_ he was. 

“Yeah, yeah, lead the way,” Michelle says, Peter’s arm instinctively hovering behind her as she takes a step forward.

She can feel the paramedic’s gaze on her as she leaves, Peter’s body heat almost radiating from how close they are to each other. It’s not lost on her that this is the closest they’ve been since the one time they shared a lab desk in chem class when Ned was sick, the memory of that rolling around something in her gut for how much of a cheap thrill it had given her then just as being so close to him in this moment gives her now.

It is patently ridiculous - she could’ve died today, her arm throbbing in more pain than she’s willing to admit as they walk away from Second Street coffee and towards the direction of where she guesses Peter’s apartment is as he brings his hands down. 

It also occurs to her that for as close to death she possibly came today, Peter was also thrown around like a rag doll - Michelle sneaking a glance to him only to find that he’s looking right at her. 

She can see now a faint bruise on his cheek, fading already so quickly that it makes her curiosity burn even more so to know just how his spider powers work. 

But what throws Michelle off isn’t Peter’s lack of limping or even the bruise that looks as if it’s fading every second that she stares at it - it’s the look in Peter’s face, one that for all her years of observing people she can’t quite place.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice low and quiet despite the sirens and the chatter of the people around them. Yet he’s so close that she can hear him perfectly, Michelle giving a short nod before saying, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“I’m _really_ sorry, MJ,” Peter says in a rush, sounding breathless as they turn away from the street Second Street is on, “I was-- I tried to get there in time but--”

“It’s not your fault, Peter,” Michelle says, Peter’s mouth twitching at that as she tries to figure out a way to reassure him while recognizing it was that much more difficult because of the situation. 

From Peter’s perspective, Michelle should arguably be upset - less from an idiot in a souped up metal suit trashing the place but from how late Peter is, knowing that even if there hadn’t been a homicidal man roaring and throwing cars around like something out of a cheesy B-grade horror movie - he was still an hour late to their planned meet up. 

But Michelle _does_ know the truth to why he was late - the fact that he wasn’t late at all, wondering now just who had been calling her in the seconds before the rhino looking guy had shown up and getting the feeling from the look in Peter’s eyes that it was him. 

“I should’ve been there in time to… ,” Peter says cutting himself off and looking away as the two of them walking down the sidewalk.

Michelle knows what he likely means, from his words and from the look on his face. She wasn’t one to play games but any other day, she would’ve had more fun with this - tease him slightly and watch him try and scramble for the slip up. 

Instead Michelle just feels tired - worn in more ways than one when she repeats, “It wasn’t your fault.”

He looks back to Peter, a searing look in his eyes that Michelle still can’t quite place - wanting desperately to talk plainly with him yet understanding she can’t.

Peter doesn’t respond to that, choosing instead to say, “We’re almost there.”

Michelle watches as he moves his face forward, tension emanating off of him in a mirror to how he looked in the Spider-Man suit. 

It hits her then that they’re heading to his apartment - wondering what state it was in considering he’s in regular clothes now, the normal curiosity she would’ve had about how Peter Parker lived pushed aside in favor of getting the chance to sit down in someplace other than the back of an ambulance.

They walk the rest of the way in relative silence, Michelle sneaking another glance to Peter only to find - once again - that he’s doing the same for her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes there’s more chapters cause I’m a clown who can’t shut up DONT LOOK AT ME


	4. One Single Thread of Gold Tied Me To You

“This is it,” Peter says as they walk into his apartment, Michelle feeling more and more awkward by the second. Her arm is still throbbing and she feels dizzy, but she’s overshadowed with the recognition that this - being alone with Peter Parker - had been her biggest daydream when she was in high school. 

It was silly then, just as it’s silly now - silently wondering to herself just what the hell she would’ve done had she been given this same opportunity when she was an awkward seventeen-year-old who hadn’t cared much for tact. 

Peter closes the door behind her, the draft from the outside sending a chill into the apartment as she glances around. 

She shivers, Peter immediately coming up behind her with a grimace on his face. 

“Sorry, I’m-- sorry, my heat isn’t the best.”

“It’s fine,” Michelle says, offering him a small smile as he scratches the back of his neck before saying, “can I take your--”

“Oh yeah,” Michelle says, handing him the coat that she’d stubbornly refused to put on or to give to him during the length of their walk - Peter taking it with ease. He looks mildly confused for where it should go for a second, looking around the apartment just as Michelle does.

It’s small, cramped and cluttered in a way that she would expect considering Peter said he worked as a photographer, much less a photographer at the kind of trash the Bugle put out. 

The couch looks like it had literally been lifted off of the street and the carpet had seen better days, but there was something almost homey about it - Michelle feeling a little emboldened as she takes a step forward, Peter dumping her coat over the couch and asking, “you want something to drink?”

“Sure,” Michelle says, looking to the pictures he has on his walls - a smile on her face at seeing what she could imagine was his own work adorned all over them. “What you got?”

“Well uh, I was thinking coffee since that’s… kind of what we were supposed to have. But you like tea more right?”

Michelle turns, glancing to Peter who makes a face - looking as if he’d been caught as he says, “I mean, just-- in high school. You always had a mug of tea with you at lunch.” 

Michelle feels speechless, an entirely new feeling as Peter stammers on. 

“But if you want coffee, I can do coffee. I don’t have anything fancy, just some coffee maker I got from Goodwill. It works though, mostly. I uh, I don’t drink a lot from it but I could--”

“Tea is great,” she says, interrupting him. “What do you have?”

“Earl grey?” Peter says, Michelle raising an eyebrow as he laughs, “Yeah, yeah I know it’s ‘basic’ or whatever,” he says, miming quotation marks with his fingers, “but it’s actually not half-bad. May gets it from me from that market she goes to.”

“Sounds good,” she says, Peter smiling at her for a beat. 

“Good,” he replies, the two of them staring at each other before Peter seems to realize that he needs to actually work on making the tea. 

“I’m gonna--” he jets a thumb out towards his kitchen, Michelle nodding encouragingly as he says, “make yourself at home.” 

He walks to his tiny kitchen, more like a kitchenette in Michelle’s eyes as she turns back to the walls - slowly taking in the pictures on the wall as her arm continues to throb. 

“Did you take these?” she calls out, hearing Peter swear as he bangs something around in the kitchen, biting her lip to prevent from laughing.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s uh, I know it’s kind of cheesy. Putting your own stuff up on your walls.”

“It’s not,” Michelle says, turning her attention to the pictures and their composition - the artist in her appreciating the angles and the depth of Peter’s work as she says, “you take the pictures you wanna see right?”

Peter laughs from the kitchen, the sound of it bringing a smile to Michelle’s face as he says, “yeah, something like that.” 

Michelle goes to sit down on the couch, sinking into the pillow as Peter comes back over to join her. 

“Water’s going,” Peter says awkwardly, rubbing his hands across his jeans before looking to her with a tight smile.

“Okay,” Michelle says softly, Peter looking conflicted once again - the day’s events seemingly settling back over him just as it comes back to Michelle. 

There feels like an unspeakable gulf between them, so many things that Michelle wants to say and to try and tell him - not least of which to try and absolve him of the guilt that he clearly has written all over his face but not really knowing how to do so without sounding like the biggest creep on the planet.

How could she even begin to explain that she figured out that Peter was Spider-Man unless she admitted that she used to watch him in high school, telling herself that she wasn’t obsessed but just observant. Now, Michelle was self-aware enough to recognize that that was as much of a delusion as thinking that she’d only wanted to reconnect with an old friend by meeting with him today - feeling unbearably silly as Peter shifts his weight around. 

“I’m really sorry again, MJ. I’m-- there’s no excuse for me not being there.”

 _I can think of one_ , Michelle thinks to herself but doesn’t say as Peter continues, “I should’ve been there. I _wanted_ to be there but--”

“It’s really okay, Peter,” she says, thinking fast, “you don’t have to keep apologizing for something that’s not your fault.” 

Peter looks conflicted, like he wants to accept her words but Michelle getting the sense that he also wanted to argue them without quite knowing how to when her phone goes off, buzzing from inside of her pocket. She digs it out, glancing at the text message and seeing that it’s Mary Jane - asking if she would be free to get dinner sometime next week.

“Sorry,” Michelle says, going to close out the message and reminding herself to text her back sometime later when she sees the missed call - confirmation just then that it had been Peter that was calling her just a few seconds before he and the rhino guy had showed up. “Wait, you called?”

She looks up and Peter looks frozen - Michelle almost _seeing_ the gears shift behind his eyes as he seemingly tries to figure out an explanation for why he had called her only moments before “Spider-Man” appeared. 

“Yeah, I was-- I was running late, I knew I was gonna be late but I didn’t-- um. I wasn’t sure when I’d get there so-- I just wanted to let you know. That was I gonna be… late.” Peter trails off, looking like he wanted to kick himself as Michelle watches.

She wants so badly to put him out of his misery but can’t figure out a way to do so just yet, as he sighs. “I’m just-- are you okay? Do you need aspirin or anything?” He motions towards her arm and Michelle looks at it, shaking her head and ignoring the ache in it as she says, “No, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Peter says, gritting his teeth together and going to say something more when the water starts to whistle, turning back to the kitchen. “That’s your tea. I’ll… be right back.”

Michelle just watches as he does, catching Peter press a hand to his face as he shakes his head - grabbing a mug out from his cupboard. 

She glances around the living room then, looking for any kind of sign or segue that Peter had rolled through here in a rush yet finds nothing - no chance of sliding into the kind of revelation that on a good day would be life-changing and now was even more pressing. Michelle was smart, she was getting her _PhD_ in social policy - she’d learned the art of negotiation and navigating complex situations time and time again by now. 

Yet watching as pours out some of the steaming hot water into a mug she can only hope is clean, making a face as he just dumped a tea bag into it before bringing it over to her - Michelle begins to wonder if all her years of education and experience really meant nothing when confronted with the chance to ask her old high school crush the questions she used to spend most of AP biology daydreaming about. 

“I don’t know if you like anything in it or if this is okay. I might have some milk or May likes to use--”

“This is okay,” Michelle says gratefully, reaching out to grab the mug and wincing slightly as she does - hoping her face didn’t change too much only to see that Peter caught her facial expression anyway, a storm behind his eyes as he sits down across from her. 

Michelle blows on the mug, thinking it was more water than a good cup of tea at this point as she sighs. 

“You’ve got to stop beating yourself about this. I’m okay. You’re okay.”

She glances up to Peter who doesn’t look convinced, grinding his teeth for a second as she says, “Besides, what’s a trip to the city without some kind of threat to my life? Jersey’s boring as hell.”

Peter’s face twists before he laughs, Michelle smiling as she wraps her fingers around the mug he’s given her. 

“Thrill seeker huh? Didn’t know you were into that kind of thing.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” Michelle says casually, realizing just then how it sounds a half-second when it’s out in the open - holding Peter’s gaze to see what he does with it. 

“Really?” Peter asks, the corner of his lips upturning as he leans back on the couch, one arm resting over the edge, “like what?”

Michelle’s heart starts to work double time, beating just a little faster at the thrill of flirting with him and the recognition that they’re alone in his apartment. 

Michelle has grown up in more ways than one since high school, more confident and self-assured. The girl who had a crush on Peter Parker wasn’t shy by any means but a little _too_ forward - lacking the kind of tact and patience that she learned in the long run was more effective in communicating with people. The girl who had a crush on Peter Parker wouldn’t have known what to do with herself is she would’ve been alone with him, much less sitting on his couch just a few feet away - flirting casually as if they’d just met. 

Michelle had been abroad during a semester in college, seen things she’d only ever dreamed about and met dozens of interesting people in the years since she last saw Peter Parker. She’d had flings, serious relationships and everything in between. Michelle was not the same girl she had been in high school. 

Yet all that was thrown out of the window as she stared into Peter’s eyes, surprising herself when she blurts out, “Like I know you’re Spider-Man.”

The words are out before she can stop them, feeling something in her throat catch as Peter’s eyes widen - her heart starting to pound into her chest as he sits up.

“What?”

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck_ . However Michelle had ever anticipated this conversation going, in all the years that she had imagined this exact moment - _this_ had never been a part of it, kicking her impulsivity and the complete lack of self-control she only ever seemed to have when she was around Peter as forces herself to stare at him. 

“You’re Spider-Man,” she says more evenly, taking a sip of tea in front of her and trying not to make a face as Peter’s whole face turns red - a laugh erupting out of him that sounded slightly hysterical. 

“What? I’m-- I’m not--”

“I mean, it’s kind of obvious,” Michelle says, swallowing down the slightly terrible tea as he starts to shake his head. 

“What would make you think I’m Spider-Man?” He asks carefully, even if Michelle can see his cheeks and his neck start to go red - swallowing down something in his throat as Michelle brings the mug of tea down from her lips. 

“Peter, Washington? You used to disappear, out of nowhere in high school all the time. You stayed in the city for college even though all you and Ned ever talked about was going to MIT. And then today. You called me, right before that rhino guy showed up at Second Street.”

Peter looks panicked at that, Michelle leaning over to put the mug on his floor as Peter starts to stammer, “That’s-- that’s because I knew I was gonna be late. I--”

“Why were you going to be late?” Michelle asks, wondering if she’s being too pushy but also thinking she’s already here - Peter snapping his mouth shut as she watches him try to figure out a good enough excuse. 

High school Michelle would’ve pressed, pushed him forward until he sunk himself deeper into a hole of his own making - so damned and determined to find out the truth that it didn’t matter how she got there. 

Her outburst had started this conversation but it didn’t have to be the way it finished, Michelle leaning back on the patience she had perfected over the years as she waited for Peter. 

Peter for his part looked as if he went through the five stages of grief in less than three minutes, his facial features shifting as his eyes searched her face - looking as if he was trying to figure out a way to get out of this only to shift straight onto acceptance, his shoulders sagging as he says. 

“Okay yeah, I’m Spider-Man.” 

“I _knew_ it,” Michelle says, smiling as she leans forward, “God, I was only sixty-seven percent sure during high school but--”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Peter says, leaning forward himself. “You _knew_ back in high school?”

“Well yeah,” Michelle says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “you and Ned weren’t exactly subtle, Peter.”

Peter looks flabbergasted at that, Michelle misunderstanding his confusion as she says, “You guys were so _loud_ during class and lunch. I’m honestly surprised half of New York doesn’t know the truth.”

“No, it’s-- it’s not that,” Peter says as he shake his head, an unreadable expression on his face as he looks to Michelle. “You knew and you didn’t… tell anyone?”

It’s Michelle’s turn to be surprised, wrinkling her eyebrows as she says, “Yeah? Why? It’s not my secret to tell. Plus,” she shrugs, grimacing when her arm starts to throb once more, “it’s not like I was _sure_ until college.” 

Peter just stares at her blankly before he laughs, Michelle taken aback by the sound as his whole body shakes. 

“You good?” Michelle asks, leaning back as Peter starts to cry from laughing so hard, wiping the tears from his eyes as he says, “Fuck, this is just-- you have no idea. Tony’s gonna have a field day with this.”

“Tony Stark?” She asks, Peter nodding as he laughs once more. “He’s got this running joke that I’ll never have to reveal my identity to anyone because they’ll figure it out on their own eventually.” 

“He’s not wrong,” she says, making a face before continuing, “though the fact that I keep agreeing with Tony Stark doesn’t sit right with me.”

Peter laughs again, Michelle watching as he seems to relax right in front of her eyes. “You’d be surprised, I think you guys would get along.”

Michelle raises an eyebrow, Peter grinning at her as he says, “I’m serious! Maybe not at first but--”

“Are you really going to compare _me_ to a white middle aged billionaire who flies around in a metal suit?” Michelle asks, Peter stifling back a laugh as he says, “Well he doesn’t fly around in it _anymore_.”

Michelle laughs, Peter’s whole demeanor shifting into one of pure delight - a look on his face that just makes her heart beat a little faster only to change when she winces again, moving her arm a little too fast. 

Peter catches it before she can stop him, looking pained as he said, “MJ, I’m really sorry I wasn’t there in time. I hate that you got hurt.”

“I can take care of myself,” Michelle says, Peter looking like he was going to argue as she says, “And besides, it’s not like you planned it.”

A beat. “You _didn’t_ plan that right?”

“No?” Peter looks mildly offended and yet exhausted at that, running a hand through his hair. “God, it’s like the universe is always out to get me. Anytime I have something I need to do or someone I want to meet or literally _anything_ , stupid shit always seems to come up.”

“Sounds like it,” Michelle says, leaning her good arm against the couch and resting her head on it, “what was that guy’s problem anyway?”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Who the hell knows? Since when does anything in my life make sense.”

Michelle smiles at that, Peter shaking his head and sighing before saying, “I can’t believe you knew this whole time and just… never said anything. You’re not mad at me for not telling you?”

Michelle shrugs again, lifting her head up. “It’s not like we really knew each other in high school. Besides, I didn’t _really_ know until college and by then, we kinda…” Michelle trailed off, not really needing to explain how much they’d drifted since then.

Peter understands, a softer smile on his face as he says, “Thanks. For not telling anyone.”

“You don’t have to thank me for being a decent person,” Michelle says with a smirk, “thanks for like, saving the universe or whatever the hell you get up to.”

Peter laughs again. “Yeah no, that’s not really my thing. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, you know.”

“I don’t know, that was some weird shit you did today,” Michelle’s says, Peter’s confusion prompting her to continue. “You have a clone now or?”

The recognition dawns on his face, cracking a smile as he says, “Yeah no, not a clone. It’s a hologram, like… part of my suit as a defense tactic. Tony thought it was weird but he lets me use his lab for whatever the hell I want now so--”

“A _hologram_ ? Like Star Wars?” Michelle interjects, Peter doing a double take as he asks, “ _You_ know about Star Wars?”

Michelle rolls her eyes. “Just because I know of it, doesn’t mean I watch it. Your nerdy shit pervades all of pop culture. I’m not a fan of it or anything.”

Peter grins, looking wildly pleased with himself as he says, “Only a Sith deals in absolutes.”

Michelle rolls her eyes yet again, more for dramatic effect as Peter laughs, “yeah whatever, tell me more about the hologram stuff.”

“Really?” Peter asks, “are you sure? I mean, you should be pissed at me. Your arm--”

“Will be fine,” Michelle says, “not everything that happens in the universe is your fault, Peter. Not even as Spider-Man.”

“He wouldn’t have been there if I hadn’t been on my way to Second Street,” Peter says solemnly, Michelle shaking her head.

“But then he would’ve just gone somewhere else. It’s not _your_ fault that people are idiots. You save people, Peter. That’s a good thing.”

Peter looks almost touched at how earnest Michelle sounds, the young and insecure part of her saying that she should balance it out with a joke - revert back to the kind of sarcastic comment that she had been known for. 

But she doesn’t - more self-assured in herself and recognizing that this was one small thing she could do for Peter, much less for herself - meaning every bit of her words to him. 

When Michelle doesn’t say anything, Peter just smiles - nodding once and looking like he doesn’t quite believe her but doesn’t have it in him to argue as she says, “tell me more about the holograms.”

She waits. “You know, if you want.”

Peter’s smile grows wider, nodding again with more certainty.

“I want to.” 

* * *

Once Peter starts talking it seems, it’s hard for him to stop. 

Michelle is wildly curious about - about anything and everything when it comes to Peter’s life as Spider-Man, feeling like she did when she was picking her dissertation topic as she asks questions about Peter’s abilities. 

Peter for his part seems glad for the chance to talk to someone about it, Michelle getting the sense that this was rare that people actually found out about his identity for as much as he had previously joked about it. From all she can gather, the last person who found out that he was Spider-Man had been his aunt back in high school - laughing to herself at how he was able to keep this massive secret from people throughout his life. 

The more Peter told her about Spider-Man, the more Michelle couldn’t help but think of how terribly lonely it was - holding this massive part of yourself away from the people you knew and wondering not for the first time if this was why Peter didn’t have a lot of new people around him. 

For anyone on the outside looking in, Peter would be the biggest flake on the planet - an asshole who never could keep his word, if you didn’t know why he was perpetually late. A pang runs through her at how hard it has to be for him though she keeps that to herself, the hours of their initial coffee meet up passing by until it was well past dinner time. 

Michelle fiddles with her chopsticks from the take out they ordered, the quiet feeling comfortable as she reflects on their conversation. It had run from Spider-Man to college to life in general, Peter asking her just as many questions about where she’d been and the things she’s seen - seemingly just as fascinated with her life as she was with his. 

It was only natural that it led to the topic of relationships, Peter disclosing his lackluster love life with the same sense of humor that he approached anything else in his life - Michelle being a bit more self-aware than she would be with anyone else for why she thinks her last relationship didn’t work out. 

She didn’t really know Peter yet felt inexplicably comfortable with him, sensing from the easy way that Peter shared things about his life that Peter seemed to feel the same about her as he slurps up a noodle. 

“What?” He asks, catching Michelle staring at him as she bites her lip, trying not to laugh. 

“Nothing,” Michelle says, glad that she has _some_ self-control to not say what she’s thinking, “just makes sense why you’re still single if you eat like _that_.” 

Peter scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I told you. I suck at dates. Suck at relationships, really. Once I get there, I’m a good time but--”

“Oh really?” Michelle says teasingly, a flash of something mischievous passing through Peter’s eyes as he says, “I’ve been told I’m not _completely_ useless.”

“Lots of experience making up for your poor time management huh?” Michelle says, Peter snickering. 

“Yeah well. As a boyfriend? I suck. Everything else?” Peter shrugs, looking mildly pleased with himself. “I don’t get any complaints.”

“Wow, how do you manage to fit that big head of yours into your mask?”

“Nano tech. You’d be surprised at the technology we have these days,” Peter says with a wink, Michelle laughing despite herself. 

“Well you’re not the only one who sucks at relationships,” she finally says, realizing just how sad it sounds when Peter looks up at her. “I mean, not the time management part. Unlike some bug people, I’m good at keeping to my commitments.” 

“Arachnid,” Peter corrects, Michelle just shaking her head. “But being a good girlfriend. I kind of suck at it.”

“I doubt that,” Peter says quietly, Michelle meeting his eyes as he says, “It sounds like you have your shit together.”

“A little too much, honestly. My last boyfriend said that I have a hard time opening up to people. That I push them away before I can get hurt. So,” Michelle shrugs again, bringing her attention back to the carton of food in her hand, “you’re not the only one who sucks at relationships. And I don’t even have dressing up in spandex as an excuse.” 

Peter looks thoughtful, tapping a chopstick against the carton as he says, “Maybe you’re not the one who sucks at relationships but you just haven’t met the right person yet.”

Michelle barely holds back the eye roll she desperately wants to give. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who believes in ‘the one’.” 

Peter laughs, shaking his head as he says, “No, not-- not like that. I mean more like, the person whose willing to work at stuff with you know? I don’t… I used to think that maybe there was a right person, like some magical partner that would be willing to put up with my bullshit. And that’s just the Peter Parker stuff, not even you know,” Peter nodded his head towards the suit he’d laid out - Michelle having asked him to show her some of the features it had and Peter willingly obliging. 

“But,” Peter says, Michelle bringing her attention back to him, “I think it’s less about finding _the_ person but more like, the person who is willing to _stay_.”

Michelle doesn’t know how to answer that, Peter looking as if he’s lost in his own memories - desperately wanting to ask him if there was a particular person he wished had stayed but also recognizing that she’s crossed so many boundaries that even if he had been willing to share thus far, she wouldn’t encroach upon something as personal as this. 

“Anyway, maybe it’s not that you suck at relationships but you just haven’t found the person who's willing to like, stick together by sucking together.”

Michelle raises an eyebrow, Peter blushing an embarrassing shade of red as he quickly says, “I mean, you know what I’m trying to say.”

She just snickers, nodding her head. “Yeah, I do.”

Peter’s ears are red but the smile he gives her is genuine as he says, “I’m glad I ran into you again. It’s been nice, you know. Makes me wish we had been better friends in high school.”

“High school doesn’t last forever,” Michelle says, “maybe it’s better we didn’t.”

Peter’s expression changes, staring at her for a half-beat as something in the air shifts. 

Michelle can feel it just as much as he does, his eyes shifting to her lips then back to her eyes as Michelle’s heart starts to race. Peter smiles at that, Michelle wondering for a mortifying second if he could _hear_ it when he says, “yeah, maybe it is.”

They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, Michelle wondering if her wildest high school daydreams would come true when her phone buzzes - the spell breaking as she shifts to dig it out of her pocket and catches a message from a classmate, asking about meeting up on Monday. 

“It’s getting late,” Michelle says when she realizes the time, the “dinner” they were currently eating well past any respectable dinner time. “I should-- I mean, I didn’t mean to take up your whole day.”

“You didn’t,” Peter’s quick to say, moving his food away, “I didn’t mind, I mean. Are you-- you’re staying at a hotel right?”

Michelle nods. “Well, kind of. Betty’s parents are paying for the whole thing which is really nice of them. I was originally just gonna drive home after the wedding but now I’m glad I didn’t.”

Peter smiles at that, Michelle taking a deep breath and exhaling as she says, “I should probably go. I know you’ve probably got like, Spider-Man things to do.”

Peter smirks at that, Michelle wondering if she was just imagining how sad he looks as he says, “Yeah, well. I’m supposed to keep checking up on you, make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

Michelle rolls her eyes as Peter laughs. “I’ll be fine.”

“Head injuries aren’t a joke, MJ. I would know,” Peter says with faux seriousness, eliciting a laugh out of Michelle. 

“I don’t think that’s something you should brag about.”

Peter shrugs. “Never said I was humble. But I’m serious,” he says, looking a bit more determined, “are you sure you’re feeling okay? Your arm--”

“Is really not that bad,” Michelle says, the few hours that have passed lessening the pain slightly, “honestly, I’ll be fine.”

Peter looks conflicted, Michelle recognizing that for as much as she’s arguing that she should go, that neither of them have made any move for her to do so - the thought occurs to her that she could just stay here for the night, only to push that away as quickly as it comes. 

She had a perfectly good hotel room across the city, one that was not only paid for but would no doubt give her a better night’s sleep than whatever crappy mattress Peter likely had. 

But there’s a feeling that Michelle has that’s childish as it is convincing, that if she leaves that it’ll somehow change something between the two of them - a ridiculous notion considering there was nothing between them in the first place. 

Peter speaks before she can dwell anymore on that thought as he says, “Can I at least take you over there? I really don’t feel comfortable with you being alone tonight.”

Michelle makes a face, ready to argue against any kind of paternalistic thought process when Peter says, “not that you can’t take care of yourself, I know you can. I’m just-- I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“What, are you gonna watch me sleep?” Michelle jokes, Peter smirking as he says, “no, I’ll just keep you up all night.”

Michelle must make some kind of face because Peter immediately says, “because of your concussion. You know. Make sure you stay awake. Just-- to be safe.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, Peter stammering once again as he says, “unless you really don’t want me to. It’s fine, May said I need to get better about boundaries and--”

“It’s fine, Peter. You can walk me home or whatever.”

Peter grins, a fluttering feeling in her chest at his look when he says, “whoever said anything about walking?”

Michelle pauses, Peter’s smile growing wider as she raises an eyebrow - not trusting the look on his face for a second. 

“What did you have in mind?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big clown hours over here. next one is for sure the last one. 
> 
> maybe. 
> 
> don't look at me.


	5. Hell Was The Journey But It Brought Me Heaven

Michelle feels breathless, holding on tight to Peter - his strong arms wrapped around her as their bodies moved together. 

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Michelle said softly, Peter laughing as he shifted his hips and tightened his grip on her.

“You okay?” He asked, Michelle squeezing her eyes shut as they dipped and then swung together once more. 

“How the hell is this better than  _ walking _ ?” Michelle says, holding onto him so tightly she’s sure she would leave a bruise if it weren’t for the fact that he was a literal superhero, hearing him laugh as he gently lands on the rooftop of the hotel she’s staying at. 

Michelle’s legs are still wrapped around him, shaking slightly when he whispers, “we’re here.”

She opens her eyes to see the eyes of his mask, realizing that she’s still clinging to him and for the first time letting it sink in how close they are - his arms still wrapped around her waist. 

Michelle loosened her grip on him just as Peter lets her go, shaking her head as she moves some hair away from her face.

“I am never, never,  _ never _ doing that again. Never. Terrible idea. I think I have a concussion  _ now _ .”

Peter laughs, glancing around before slipping his mask off - his cheeks looking flushed and his hair going every which way as Michelle’s eyes widened. 

“Peter, what the hell? What if someone sees you?”

He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “I got this… sense? It’s like a feeling, letting me know when I’m in danger.” He nods to their surroundings. “I’m not up here.” 

“Okay,” Michelle says, looking around, “so. How are we supposed to get down from here?” 

Peter blanches at that, Michelle holding back a laugh at the recognition that he hadn’t thought this plan through as he says, “Uh… well. There’s always a roof access door somewhere.”

“And you think a hotel as nice as this will just, what? Have an open roof?” 

Peter glances around before he seems to find what he’s looking for, a door that specifically says “roof access”. He jiggles with the door knob before seemingly breaking it, the two of them flinching as he mutters, “oops.”

Michelle snickers, Peter turning back to her and saying, “See? Problem solved.”

“The Bugle is right. You are a property damaging menace,” Michelle deadpans, Peter looking mildly offended at that as she grins. 

“I resent that,” he says, opening the door and dramatically extending his hand. “After you.”

Michelle snickers only to pause, Peter looking at her expectantly as she says, “Wait. Are you actually walking me to my room?”

Peter’s smile falls at that, straightening up as he says, “I mean, I don’t have to. I’m sorry if I was pushy or—“

“No, not that,” Michelle says, shaking her head before gesturing towards him, “I mean your suit. You’re literally dressed as  _ Spider-Man _ right now. You really think no ones gonna notice?”

Peter looks down to his suit before looking back to Michelle with a grin on his face. 

“Spider-Man does take the elevator sometimes.”

“Okay first, don't refer to yourself in the third-person, it’s weird.”

Peter smirks as she continues, “And second, seriously? I cannot believe I am saying this for the second time in a day but Tony Stark is right, it is a  _ miracle  _ you still have a secret identity.”

Peter laughs, Michelle just raising an eyebrow until he puts his hands up.

“Okay, okay, I see your point. How about this,” he says, putting his hands down, “I’ll swing back to my place, grab a change of clothes and then be back here in… thirty minutes?”

Peter looks conflicted for a moment before saying, “I mean, unless you don’t want me to. Really, I don’t— you had a long day and I don’t mind if you just want to—“

“Make it twenty and you have a deal,” Michelle interjects, feeling more like the teenager who would’ve given almost anything for Peter to wanting to willingly spend time with her rather than the grown woman she’s supposed to be.

Peter smiles, the sight of it just setting off Michelle's heart rate for the upteempth time as he says, “Okay. Cool.”

“Cool,” Michelle says awkwardly before nodding her head towards the roof. “Well, go get em tiger.”

Peter laughs again, shaking his head before shoving his mask over his face - walking backwards as he says, “Tiger huh?”

“Shut up,” Michelle says playfully, watching as he salutes before falling backwards off the rooftop, her heart leaping into her throat until she sees him swing away.

She stands there just for a second, trying to absorb just what the hell she was getting herself into when she shakes her head - closing the roof door behind her.

* * *

It’s unlikely that Peter would actually make it back to the hotel in just under twenty minutes, but that doesn’t mean that the time in between isn’t spent in a slight panic for Michelle.

The full spectrum of the day’s events start to weigh on her as soon as she steps into her hotel room, closing her eyes and leaning against the door as she sighs in exhaustion.

It had felt like years had passed since Betty’s wedding and it had only been a few hours, the destruction of Second Street and the hours long conversation with Peter all rushing back to her now that it’s quiet and she’s alone.

But Michelle’s on a timer, reminding herself that Peter is on his way - not wanting to risk the possibility that the one time she expected him to be late, he would be there right on time.

She strips herself off her clothes and rushes to take a shower, pulling her hair up and simultaneously wondering if this was overkill or if this would send off some kind of message - even if rationally Michelle knows that a shower is just what she needs to calm down.

Trying to shower around the bandage is more difficult than she expected, glad already that she’d shaved last night only to roll her eyes at the thought that she should care - the fact that Peter was coming back to her hotel room not lost on her, even if she tried to push that particular thought away.

Michelle was smart enough to recognize that Peter clearly had an agenda beyond wanting to make sure she was okay. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew she didn’t have a bad enough concussion that she had to stay awake and they’d been not so subtly flirting for the better half of twenty-four hours.

But there was something thrilling in Peter wanting to spend more time with her, no matter the reason - both wanting and not wanting to dwell on the possibilities lest she get disappointed.

On the one hand, Michelle thought as she dressed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, Peter  _ was _ a good guy. He could genuinely just want to make sure she was okay, especially since he clearly had a guilt complex the size of Manhattan.

On the other hand, Michelle mused - glancing through her things and seeing the pack of condoms Felicia had given all the bridesmaids as parting gifts staring back at her - Peter had been a little too insistent and a little too flirty for him to be just being  _ friendly _ , Michelle being under no illusion of what she hoped would happen.

It was a fantasy, Michelle knew that - the thought that her high school crush not only was into her but wanted to spend the night with her, mortified that she felt so giddy about that but feeling it all the same. 

But regardless of whether it’s fantasy or not, Michelle’s surprised when she hears a knock at the door - glancing at her phone and realizing that the twenty minutes had already passed.

She looks out of the peephole and is doubly surprised to see it’s Peter, quickly unlocking the door and opening it as she says, “You’re here.”

Peter grins, his hair a mess and looking a little windswept as he says, “You said twenty minutes.”

She laughs, inviting him in and closing the door behind him.

“Yeah but no offense, I didn’t actually think that you were gonna make it on time.”

“I deserve that,” Peter says with a sigh, Michelle watching as he takes the backpack he has on off.

“Wait, did you  _ walk _ here or—“

“No, I swung,” he says, turning the backpack around and zipping it open, showing Michelle a flash of the titular red and blue, “just did a quick change on the roof.”

“Wait,” Michelle says, Peter setting the backpack down, “you just changed on the roof? And you really expected no one to see you.”

“I told you, I have a sense for these things. No one saw me.”

Michelle just squints at him, Peter laughing as she shakes her head. 

“If you end up getting outed by the Bugle, don't blame me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Peter says with a grin, Michelle realizing the same moment he does that they’re once again alone - this time, in her hotel room and with her bed beckoning out to them.

“So…” Peter begins, Michelle self-consciously crossing her arms.

“So,” she says, “you’re gonna keep me up all night huh?”

Peter smiles, a flash of something that makes her heart race a little faster as he says, “Um well, just to make sure you’re okay.”

“I would think someone who says they have so much experience with concussions would know that not falling asleep afterwards is a myth,” Michelle says carefully, watching in amusement as Peter’s eyes widen before he schools his features - shrugging as he says, “Oh yeah, definitely. I mean--”

“If you wanted to hang out with me more, you could’ve just asked,” Michelle says with a lot more vulnerability than she had planned, Peter pausing and looking at her sheepishly. 

“I would’ve thought you’d be sick of me by now,” Peter says awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I took up your whole day and you nearly got killed meeting me.”

“Like I said before,” Michelle says, curling a leg under her and sitting on her bed, “not everything’s about you. Have you seen the statistics on crime in New York?”

Peter laughs, nodding towards the bed and Michelle nodding in return - Peter slipping off his shoes and sitting on top of the covers. 

“I have actually, you’d think a decade or so and doing this and it would get better but…” Peter trails off, a faraway expression in his eyes as Michelle watches him. 

She has a thousand questions for him, the few hours that they’d had to talk barely scratching the surface of all the things she’s ever wondered about Peter Parker and his life as Spider-Man. Michelle used to spend hours daydreaming in AP Chem as Mr. Lewis droned on about isotopes about all the things she would ask Peter if given the chance. 

What were the full extent of his powers? Had he ever found out? Did he want to? What were thoughts on the Accords or the other vigilantes that seemed to pop in and out of New York like something out of a comic book? What did he think of the commercialization of superheroes, namely the shitty merchandise sold on every corner that was clear from his own apartment - he never saw a cent of. 

But all of that gets pushed out of the way for another question that rushes to the forefront of her mind, pulling her other leg to her and crossing her legs together as she asks, “Have you ever thought about stopping?”

Her voice is quieter than she intended but it’s fitting, the corner of Peter’s lips upturning slightly as he lets out a small laugh and says, “Never.” 

“Never?” Michelle asks incredulously, Peter shaking his head as he interlocks his fingers together - looking away from her as he repeats, “never.”

The old Michelle would’ve immediately launched into an attack, interrogating him to wonder why the hell he had never considered stopping - much less a question on what kind of savior complex he must have to think that he could single handedly stop the amount of crime in New York City. 

Instead she waits, letting Peter collect his thoughts before he finally says, “I’ve had these powers since I was fourteen. It’s… this is all I’ve ever known. I’ve failed more times than I can count and even the days I don’t, it still feels like it I lose.”

He turns to face her then, putting a hand to the bed and pointedly looking at the bandages on her arm as he says, “But I have to keep trying. I have to believe that we’re more than just our failures. That all we-- that all  _ I _ can do is go out there and do my best to make up for them. I never will,” he says with a sigh, Michelle wishing she could somehow lift the burden he has so heavily on his shoulders, “but I have to try and save as many as I can to make up for the ones that I couldn’t. That’s all I can do.”

She lets the words sit for a second, Peter looking as if he had said too much when Michelle finally says, “How do you even sleep at night under the weight of that massive guilt complex?”

Peter laughs, Michelle smiling as he shifts himself on the bed more. The fact that they’re alone in her hotel room, that Peter is literally on her bed and looking back at her with the kind of earnest smile that she used to spend years daydreaming about thrills her. But there’s no awkwardness between them, a familiarity that shouldn’t make sense considering the length of time that’s passed since they’ve seen each other. 

Yet it’s comfortable, whether it’s because of what they’ve already been through today or the late hour - Michelle taking the latter as an excuse to continue the conversation as she says, “You really need to work on that you know. Doesn’t seem sustainable, thinking that all the problems in the world are your fault.”

“You’d know,” he says, Michelle barely holding back a yawn as he continues, “didn’t you say your dissertation was on compassion fatigue and social workers?” 

Michelle nods, Peter leaning back a little till he’s propped up on the bed. “Yeah, but you don’t wanna hear about that.”   


“Yes I do,” Peter says, looking mildly offended, “that’s amazing, MJ. I always knew you were going to do great things.”

Michelle laughs at that. “I didn’t think you even noticed me in high school.” 

“How could I not?” Peter says, his voice quiet and his eyes locked on hers. 

Michelle can hear the sincerity in his voice, an old insecurity rushing back up to her before she can stop it as she says, “you’re right. Kind of hard to ignore the girl who never fails to speak her mind.”

“But I loved that,” Peter says more adamantly, sitting up as Michelle pauses - searching his face for a lie and finding none as he continues, “you stuck up for yourself, way more than you should’ve ever had to. It was inspiring, honestly. I wish I’d been more involved in everything, now that I think of it.”

“ _ You _ miss high school?” Michelle asks incredulously, Peter’s laugh so sudden and so loud that it makes Michelle laugh too. 

“No, no, no, not at all. High school  _ sucked _ ,” he says with a grin, Michelle smiling back at him as he says, “but sometimes I feel like I was in such a hurry to grow up, get out out high school and college so I could just be Spider-Man and now it,” he shrugs, “I don’t know. I feel like sometimes there’s a lot I missed out on.”

From the way he speaks and the look on his face, it’s as if there’s a double meaning to his words - Michelle’s heart skipping a beat as she tries to gently sidestep that in case she lets her own thoughts get ahead of her as she says, “Never too late to make up for lost time.” 

Peter grins, the smile on his face making her feel like her stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies. 

“I’m counting on it.”

* * *

Michelle feels the sunlight on her face before she sees it, stirring slightly only to pause when she hears it - the soft and steady breathing of someone next to her. 

She slowly blinks her eyes open, her heart beating a little faster when she sees who’s across from her - Peter Parker in her bed, eyes closed and his mouth open - snoring like he was in a deep sleep. 

Michelle’s eyes quickly travel to the rest of him, equal parts relieved and disappointed that he’s fully clothed - the fogginess she feels dripping away as she glances around the room. 

They’re still on her bed, over the covers and laying across from each other - the memories of the rest of the night coming back to her the longer she’s awake. 

They’d continued talking until Michelle kept yawning, Peter joking that he was serious about staying with her and making sure she didn’t die in her sleep - something that Michelle rolled her eyes at as they continued to talk. 

She doesn’t even remember falling asleep, only vague memories of how their conversation had dipped and changed throughout the night - the same kind of easy going rhythm that they’d had before in his apartment. 

Michelle’s been around with Peter again for hours yet she still feels like she’s only scratching the surface of everything she wants to know - the longer she spends with Peter, the more she gets the sense that he seems to feel the same about her. She allows herself the chance to take him in now, eyes shifting back to his face as he snores. 

He’s relaxed, the features of his face so calm that he looks so much more like the boy she’d had a massive crush on rather than the man that he has grown into. Michelle knows that for as much as she’s changed over the years that so has Peter - allowing herself the chance to wonder what sixteen-year-old Peter Parker would’ve done with the revelation that she knew he was Spider-Man. 

He probably would’ve stammered, turned beet red and maybe even try to deny it - nothing from how easily he admitted it to her, a part of Michelle wondering if it was age or a level of trust she doesn’t know she’s earned that allowed him to open up to her.

Talking with Peter was  _ easy _ , enough that it made her wish they’d been closer when they were younger. Yet Michelle recognizes that it’s possible that the only reason they can do so now is  _ because _ of the time apart, the chance for each of them to grow into people who could actually get to know each other. 

Michelle smiles before slowly rolling over in bed, lifting herself off of it as quietly as she can. But Peter’s in a deep sleep it seems, barely moving a muscle as she makes her way to the bathroom. 

Michelle is as quiet as she can, looking at herself in the mirror as she washes her hands - glancing to the bandages on her arms. 

It aches a little still, less of a sharp pain and more like how she feels when she’s pushed herself too hard at the gym - another habit and change from how she was in high school. She winces, slowly peeling the tape and gauze away.

The skin underneath doesn’t look inflamed or infected which Michelle chalks up to a good thing, rummaging through her toiletries back for the mini first aid kit she carried with her everywhere. Felicia had teased her about it when she brought along with her while they were getting ready but Michelle was glad for it now, reaching for the antibacterial ointment she has. 

She hears a thump from the bedroom, opening the door to see Peter on the floor.

“You okay?” She asks, barely holding back a laugh as he looks back up at her. 

“Oh hey, how’s it going?” Peter asks, Michelle actually laughing as he rubs the back of his head. 

“Did you actually just… fall off the bed?” 

“I guess I did,” Peter says, wincing as he sits up - looking at her for a moment before his eyes travel to her new bandage. “Do you need any help?”  


“No, I got it,” she says, Peter making a face as he stands. 

“I’m sure you do,” he says teasingly, Michelle scoffing as he gently reaches for her arm. He glances to her for permission, Michelle nodding as his hands ghost over her arm - turning it slightly as he looks over it. 

He literally slept in her bed last night, albeit in the most platonic way possible - yet the gentle way he examines her arm sends a shiver down her spine - Peter’s eyes shifting back to hers as he says, “let me help you. Please.” 

Michelle nods, feeling uncharacteristically speechless as she hands him the antibacterial ointment. Peter leads her back to the bathroom, gently applying the medicine and using some of the bandages she has. He works in silence, focused on his goal as Michelle tries and fails to calm her rapidly beating heart. 

“Thanks,” she says quietly as soon as he’s done, Peter throwing away the trash as he says, “yeah of course. Least I could do.”

“Spider-Man by night, nurse by day. You sure you wanna be a photographer, tiger?” She asks teasingly, the use of the silly nickname from last night causing Peter to grin at her before  he says, “I’m a man of many talents.”

“Are you?” Michelle asks, feeling the thrum of electricity between them - energized not just from a good night’s sleep but from having flirted with him for the better part of the weekend. 

“Yeah,” Peter whispers, his face only inches from hers. “You’d be surprised at what I can do.” 

There’s nothing particularly sexy about what he says or how he says it, nothing enticing about the morning breath he has or the standard hotel room bathroom that they’re in. But that doesn’t stop Michelle from leaning in a little closer, eyes half-lidded as she says, “I like surprises.”

It takes less than a second for Peter’s lips to meet hers, him meeting her halfway and Michelle immediately melting into it - breathing him in as his hands wrap around her waist, hers pulling him closer to her. 

It’s a kiss that immediately leaves her breathless, Peter’s rough hands rucking her shirt up her back as she presses herself flush against him - lips moving against his and his tongue slipping into her mouth as easily as he’d slipped back into her life. 

Michelle is moving backwards almost on auto-pilot, Peter starting to kiss her with a bit more fervor as they make their way out of the bathroom and back to the bed - Michelle leaning back so that she can take off her shirt. 

“Am I still dreaming?” Peter asks, Michelle smirking before she laughs - Peter smiling too as she says, “have you always been this cheesy?”   


“Always,” Peter says with faux seriousness before taking off his own shirt, Michelle’s eyes widening when she sees the cut of his abs. 

“Damn Parker, if I looked like that I wouldn’t ever wear clothes,” she says, Peter answering by pressing himself back against her, Michelle losing herself to the feeling of his tongue and his hands which snake behind her back to unclasp her bra. 

“Spider-Man’s a role model,” Peter pants as Michelle’s hands drift across his chest and down to his jeans - ghosting just over the buttons as he says, “got to keep up my reputation.”

“Maybe don’t talk about your family friendly reputation right now,” Michelle says with a smile, Peter smiling back then groaning when she palms him through his jeans - feeling him harden underneath her touch as he says, “yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“I always am,” Michelle says, kissing him again and pulling him on top of her - leaning back on the bed as Peter immediately hovers over her.

Michelle starts to lose sense of time for a second, wondering for a moment if Peter was right and  _ she _ was still dreaming - thinking that  _ this _ was the kind of thing that she used to only let herself think about in the middle of the night. 

Peter’s hands are trailing over her bare chest, Michelle sharply inhaling as his hands work almost reverently, dipping down to her just below her shorts before his eyes meet hers. 

“I had the biggest crush on you in high school.”

“You what?” Michelle asks, sitting up as Peter smiles sheepishly at her - teasing his fingers against her as she gasps. 

“I wasn’t kidding, I’m not convinced this isn’t a dream. MJ, you have no idea…” he says, trailing off as Michelle brings a hand to his face - gently lifting her hips.

Peter takes that as permission to move his fingers, Michelle’s hand moving to his neck as she pants - Peter kissing her once more.

He repositions his hand to slide a finger into her, thumb still working against her as Michelle grips his neck. 

“Are you serious?” She finally says, Peter pausing his movements until she continues, “I think everyone at Midtown knew I was obsessed with you.”

“I thought you were just observant,” Peter says with a grin, Peter adding another finger as Michelle’s head falls back.

“Shut up,” she says, “and kiss me.” 

Peter does, fingers still steadily working inside of her till she shifts - the two of them moving till they’re positioned better on the bed. His jeans are still frustratingly on, Peter moving his hands so that he can grind up against her. 

“This is like, my high school fantasy come to life you know,” Peter says into her neck, sucking at the pulse point as Michelle laughs. 

“God, me too,” she says honestly, Peter lifting his head up in surprise. “Really?”

“Peter, how do you think I knew you were Spider-Man? I watched you all the time, it’s embarrassing.” 

Michelle should feel mortified at this confession just as Peter should arguably look concerned that Michelle all but admitted that she just about stalked him in high school. But Peter just looks touched, his eyes softening as he says, “I wished I’d asked you out then.”

“We’re here now,” Michelle says, bringing him closer again - Peter locking lips with her in a searing kiss that makes her convinced that for as much as their sixteen-year-old selves would’ve loved to be in this moment, this was no teenager that was kissing her. 

Michelle reaches for his jeans, unbuttoning them and working to slide them off as he says, “Um, I don’t-- I don’t have anything--”

“I do,” Michelle says, sucking at his bottom lip.

Peter looks surprised at that, giving her a look as he says, “MJ, did you  _ plan _ on seducing me?” 

Michelle laughs, pushing his shoulders until he’s off of her - moving off the bed and towards the parting gift that Felicia had given the bridesmaids as she says, “didn’t  _ you _ ? Mr. ‘I’ll keep you up all night’?” 

Peter laughs, Michelle ripping open the box and grabbing a condom - turning back to him and feeling almost self-conscious as she asks, “This… this is okay right?” 

“Hell yes,” Peter says, his face looking full of want as he shimmy’s his pants off - eyes drifting from her bare chest to the condom in her hand as Michelle laughs. 

“Okay good, just making sure.”

“I’m sure,” he says, his boxers still on as Michelle crawls on the bed. 

There’s a nervousness that she feels then, less self-consciousness and more the realization that they were really about to do this. 

This isn’t her first time by any means and from the way Peter was kissing her, it clearly wasn’t his. But it hits her that this is  _ their _ first time together - a fleeting fear that for as much as she’d built this up in her head over the years, something that Peter had clearly had done for himself, that it wouldn’t match up to the real thing.

“Are you?”

“Huh?” Michelle asks, Peter searching her eyes as he repeats, “Are you sure?”

The bulge in his boxers is so evident that it’s almost laughable that he would want to pause what they’re doing, but there’s a sincerity in his tone that makes some of Michelle’s nerves settle - seeing a vulnerability in his eyes as she nods and whispers, “yeah, I’m sure.” 

Peter’s eyes soften at that, Michelle moving so that she’s hovering over him - pulling him into another deep kiss, as his hands start to wrap all around her. Her hips move out of their own accord, a moan escaping her at feeling him underneath her - his hands moving to her hips and pulling her over him. 

She grinds against him, the pressure from his fingers on her hips deepening as the kiss becomes more breathless - Michelle starting to pant into his mouth at how good he feels against her, her mind barely grasping on to the fact there’s still a barrier between them but she’s sure she could come undone from this alone.

Michelle moves to rectify that, breaking the kiss as she awkwardly tries to move her shorts off - Peter snickering as he does a similar motion for his boxers. 

“Shut up,” she says again, Peter’s eyes flashing with something as he says, “Make me.”

Michelle does, Peter groaning and his eyes closing as her hand wraps around him - moving her hand up and down as he leans back. 

It turns her on even more to see how easily she could work him up into a frenzy, - smirking at his soft pants as she moves her hand up and down his length, Peter gripping the sheet underneath him as his hips jerked. 

She moves to take him in her mouth when Peter stops her, Michelle wondering for the briefest moment if she had made some kind of colossal mistake when he lifts his head up and shakes it, saying, “I’m uh-- I’m not gonna last long if you do that.”

Michelle grins, Peter shuddering as her hand starts to move again. “Always good for a man to know his limits.”

“Like I said, not completely useless,” Peter says with a huff, sharply inhaling as she rips the condom open and slides it on before moving to hover over him. 

Michelle looks at him, Peter staring at her in almost awe. 

The sixteen-year-old girl who had a crush on Peter Parker hadn’t even had her first kiss. Michelle could barely even fathom what she would think about seeing her now, naked and on top of him. 

Michelle pushes that away, telling herself to stop dwelling on the past and starts living in the moment, adjusting herself till he’s right at her entrance before slowly lowering herself onto him.

The first stretch of him is almost unimaginable in how good it feels - her eyes closing in relief as she moves her hips, letting out an exhale when he’s fully inside of her. 

Michelle lets herself catch her breath, before she moves - bracing her hands against his abs and opening her eyes, Peter’s mouth half-open and hands back onto her hips.

“Touch me,” she says, Peter immediately obeying - hands ghosting all over her as Michelle closes her eyes, her hips shallowly moving up and down - going deeper and deeper each time.

“Look at me,” Peter whispers, Michelle snapping her eyes open just as Peter lifts himself up till they’re chest to chest - Michelle using his shoulders now for leverage.

Michelle doesn’t say anything, panting as she moves her hips - Peter kissing her neck as her movements start to speed up.

“Is this really happening?” He says into her neck, Michelle laughing before it turns into a moan - Peter’s hands gripping her hips tighter as she moves.

“It better be,” Michelle pants, Peter lifting his head up to look at her as she rides him - Michelle seeing the desire in his eyes as she says, “I wanted to do this for years.”

Peter groans, flipping them so quickly that Michelle almost gets dizzy - only to lose her breath as Peter starts to dive into her.

“Me too,” he says, his hips moving faster - Michelle running her nails against his back as he does.

It’s like electricity in motion, years of unresolved tension that Michelle hadn’t even realized she carried with her being unleashed - bringing him closer to her as his hips start to buck.

“Fuck, I’m—“

“It’s okay,” Michelle says, thinking that if he finished before her she could put those hands back to good use once more. 

But Peter just seems to take her acknowledgement as a challenge, a flash of something mischievous in his eyes as he adjusts himself to hit at a new angle - Michelle crying out as he does.

“Peter,” she pants, Peter groaning and moving even faster, thrusting into her so hard that Michelle’s sure the bed is shaking.

But it’s not the bed, it’s her - Peter burrowing his head into her neck as their hips meet, Peter hitting at just the right angle over and over again.

“ _ Peter, _ ” she moans again, lost to whatever rhythm he’s found as he continues to move - hiking up her leg for leverage, feeling herself get closer and closer. 

When she does, it’s sudden - less of an explosion and more like falling off of a cliff, surprising herself with the intensity of it - sending a shiver down her whole body as her legs turn to jello. 

At the feel of her fluttering around him, Peter becomes completely undone - moaning her name until he collapses on top of her.

Michelle can barely catch her breath, Peter’s chest heaving against hers before he pulls out - rolling over and panting as he looks up at the ceiling.

It’s quiet for a few moments before Michelle lets out a small laugh, turning to Peter as she says, “you were right.”

Peter looks over to her, his hair a mess and looking completely wrecked as he asks, “About what?”

“You’re not  _ completely _ useless,” Michelle says with a smirk, Peter laughing again - so hard that the bed shakes yet again.

He leans over to kiss her, bringing a hand to her face - running a thumb across her cheek before whispering, “I’ll be right back.”

Michelle bites her lips to prevent herself from laughing as he gets off the bed and almost waddles to the bathroom to dispose of the condom, Michelle arching her back as she stretches.

She regrets the action as soon as she does it, her arm still stinging from the strain from before - sitting up in bed just as Peter comes back in.

“Your arm okay?” He asks, Michelle nodding as she throws her legs over the side of the bed.

“Yeah, told you it’s fine. Besides,” she says, standing up as Peter eyes her up and down, “I was a little preoccupied.”

Peter grins, kissing her once more - the fear of a UTI the only thing breaking her out of his embrace.

Yet once she’s back from the bathroom, Peter’s half-dressed - Michelle’s heart sinking when she sees him put his shirt on.

She must have some look on his face because Peter’s eyes widen when she walks back in, putting a hand out and saying, “I’m not— sorry, I’m not trying to ditch. I’m—“

“It’s okay,” Michelle says quickly, the awkward sixteen year old coming back in full force as she grabs her shirt from the floor, throwing it on over her as she says, “I know you have stuff to do and—“

“No, MJ. That’s not it—“

“You really don't have to explain—“ Michelle interjects, only to pause when she hears it - Peter’s stomach growling so loud that he grimaces.

“Wait. Is that your—“

“I have a really fast metabolism,” Peter says sheepishly, looking more red now than he did when he was inside her, “I have to eat like, an insane amount of food.”

“Okay,” Michelle says, Peter motioning to the jeans he has in his hand.

“That’s why I was getting dressed. I uh, wanted to see if you wanted to get breakfast.”

Michelle searches his face for a lie yet again and finds none - Peter taking that as an opportunity to say, “I wasn’t trying to leave. I—“

He cuts himself off, standing up straighter as he says, “I really like you, MJ.”

Michelle grins, feeling like a warmth rush through her as she says, “I really like you too.”

He smiles, dropping his jeans as Michelle laughs - only for his lips to meet hers with a kiss, Michelle feeling his smile as he does. 

The kiss is quick but full of meaning, Michelle feeling breathless yet again when he says, “I still feel like I’m dreaming, like I won the lottery or something.”

Michelle just wraps her arms around his neck before smiling at him, Peter looking completely enamored as she grins. 

“Face it tiger, you just hit the jackpot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter and then it’s over.
> 
> I promise, the actual last one. 
> 
> :)


	6. Time, Wondrous Time

**Six Months Later**

  
  


“And then he asked, ‘oh, so what's he been in’ and I said, ‘me’.”

“ _Mary Jane_ ,” Michelle says, glancing to the people around them who were all thankfully oblivious to her words. A couple of heads turn when she laughs, Michelle shaking her own as Betty says, “you did _not_ say that.”

“She not only said that, she said it in front of the director,” Felicia chimes in, Michelle smirking as Felicia takes a sip of her mimosa, “you and lover boy didn’t work out so well after that did you?”

“No,” Mary Jane says, Michelle thinking that she didn’t look the least bit sorry about it, “but I think I got the better end of the deal. That’s how I met Harry.”

“I still can’t believe you’re dating Harry _Osborn_ ,” Betty says scandalously, Michelle barely holding back a laugh as Mary Jane just shrugs. 

“He’s really not that bad, his dad’s an asshole but what dad isn’t,” Mary Jane says with a grin, Felicia rolling her eyes. 

“Mine isn’t. Don’t project your own issues onto everyone.”

Mary Jane goes to say something before Betty interjects, deftly changing the conversation as she says, “speaking of issues, don’t you have a new article coming out, MJ?” 

“Which one?” Mary Jane and Michelle both ask, the two of them laughing as Betty rolls her eyes and Felicia snickers. 

“The one who talked my ear off about it for weeks,” Betty says pointedly, Michelle laughing as she says, “yeah okay, I deserved that one. And yes, it’s not an _article_ article, one of the papers I sent for publication got a revise and resubmit.”

“Is that… a good thing?” Felicia asks, Michelle nodding.

“Yeah, it’s not a flat out no. More like they like it but had some extra questions and ideas,” she says, taking a sip of her own drink before setting the glass down and saying, “and after I put them together, I’ll send it back and they should accept it.”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” Mary Jane says, shaking her head, “Wellesley would’ve been absolutely unbearable if I didn’t have you girls.”

“Don’t discredit yourself, it’s not like theater is easy,” Michelle says, Betty nodding in affirmation. 

“I still can’t believe you ran the drama club at Harvard.” 

Mary Jane looks at her in surprise before saying, “I didn’t know that.” She grins, winking at her before saying, “I knew there was something about you that I liked.”

Michelle just laughs, Felicia sighing dramatically before saying, “Stop flirting in front of me, I can’t handle it. It’s horrifically unfair that the three of you are happily paired off and I’m just here, wasting away.”

The whole table laughs, Betty shaking her head in disbelief, “Felicia, you literally walked in here from spending the night with that girl from--”

“Let me be dramatic, B. It’s Saturday, I’m allowed,” Felicia says with a coy smile, the rest of them laughing once more as Michelle leans back. 

Of all the changes that her life had taken in the past six months, this had been one of the more unexpected ones - Michelle smiling as she glanced around at the women who had become more of a fixture in her life. 

Michelle had her own friends and her own life at Princeton, her local coffee shop owner joking that she’d left them for someone else. She’d laughed them off as she grabbed a pastry and went to teach a class, glad still for the kind of familiarity within a small community that was welcoming. 

Yet the brunch buddies, as Betty had tried and failed to get them to call themselves, had become just another addition in her life - one that Michelle was infinitely thankful for. Coming into the city every weekend wasn’t realistic by any means, for her schedule or for her budget. But the times that she did were great in more ways than one, getting the chance to solidify the new friendships she had made with Mary Jane and Felicia and strengthening the bond she already had with Betty.

Mary Jane’s foot nudges her just then, Michelle glancing in her direction and catching her coy smile - Michelle smiling in return as Felicia and Betty bantered back and forth.

It was a good feeling, the expansion of friendships in a way that was meaningful - making her likely plans to move back to the city after graduation all the more enticing. She’d only known Mary Jane and Felicia for a few months and yet Michelle already couldn’t imagine her life without them, not so subtly joking with Betty that she’d kept her away from them.

Yet even as she had said it, Betty had the good graces not to call her out on the truth - that for as focused and ambitious and as much growth as Michelle had undergone since high school, it had been Betty that had maintained the bulk of their friendship for years. 

Michelle wouldn’t allow herself to repeat those same mistakes going forward, smiling at Mary Jane once again as she winks back at her - green eyes still sparkling in the morning sun. 

As the conversation shifted to how Felicia’s night had been, Michelle just leans back and smiles - reveling in the chance to be surrounded by good people that she liked and who liked her and the recognition that the other reason she liked being in the city more often was out there, waiting for her to come home. 

* * *

Michelle gasped, clutching Peter’s sheets as her back arched - trying hard not to rock against his face but finding that it’s a losing battle. 

Peter hums, one hand appreciatively clutching her thighs and pulling her even closer while he uses the other to curl a finger inside of her - Michelle thinking that she could black out if he continued to use his tongue the way he is. 

“ _Peter_ ,” she says, the hand not tangled in the sheets rifled through his hair - the vibration of Peter humming once more putting her that much closer. 

Michelle feels herself start to let go, letting herself get lost in the moment and closing her eyes as Peter brings her to release - feeling his tongue continue to work her through it until she shudders, loosening her grip in his hair and falling back onto the bed. 

He leans back, Michelle blinking her eyes open to see his stupid smirk - wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as she whispers, “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he says, crawling back over her, kissing her as she says, “you said it with your eyes.”

Peter just laughs, kissing her again before he starts to trail kisses down her neck - Michelle wrapping her arms around him as she brings him closer. 

“Are you really criticizing my _facial_ expressions?” He says against her collarbone, Michelle bringing his head back up and kissing him - partly to shut him up but mostly because for as relaxed as she is, she can still feel him against her - ready to make him feel as good as he did for her. 

“Come on tiger,” Michelle whispers, eliciting the reaction she intended as Peter groans - Michelle skating her hips up to brush up against him, “you really wanna be talking right now?”

Peter’s eyes flash with something else as their lips meet, less kissing and more panting in each other’s mouth before Michelle’s hands haphazardly reach for the condoms he has on his bedside table. She trusted Peter, they were officially _exclusive_ to use the most high school definition possible, but despite her confidence in her birth control - there was always a non-insignificant failure rate. 

Knowing Parker luck as well as she did now, Michelle wasn’t going to take any chances. 

Peter laughs when he seems to notice where her hands are going, using his considerable strength to lean towards it as Michelle turns around to her stomach - bracing her hands and knees against the mattress as he puts the condom on. 

Only for Peter to flip her back around, Michelle laughing in surprise as he says, “I wanna see you.”

Michelle smiles warmly at him, feeling him tease against her as she whispers, “I’m right here.”

With that he kisses her, easily pushing into her and the two of them settling into an easy rhythm as his hands almost cradle her face - looking into her eyes as he moves.

“I missed you,” he says, Michelle huffing out a laugh before it turns into a contented sigh - bracing one hand to the back of his neck and another pulling him closer. 

“You saw me last weekend,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as their hips move together. “Tuesday, if you count that video call with Ned.”

“Not the same,” Peter says, Michelle wrapping her legs around him - Peter responding with a deep thrust that makes her gasp.

“I’m-- I can’t argue with you right now.”

“Cause I’m right?” Peter says into her neck, already sounding wrecked as his hips start to move even faster. 

“No cause you’re--” she gasps, “you’re fighting dirty.”

Peter leans back, a smile on his face before he kisses her - moving one hand down to where their hips met. Michelle let out a sharp gasp, her body moving out of its own accord as Peter’s hips continued their steady movement - any quick retort she had quickly fading away. 

There’s no conversation between them for the next few minutes, the only sounds being the snap of their hips and their contented sighs as they moved closer and closer to their finish. 

It hits Peter suddenly, Michelle hearing him groan out her name as his hand moves away - the feel of him pushing into her and the hitch of his hips against where his hands just were pushing her over the edge once more as he rests on top of her. 

Michelle lazily draws circles along his back as she catches her breath, Peter moving to pull out before she stops him. He looks confused until she says, “You’re not right just cause you shut me up.”

“I never want to shut you up,” Peter says, teasingly yet Michelle can see the sincerity in his eyes. 

“Good,” Michelle whispers back, only for Peter to snicker before he pulls out.

She thinks from the look on his face that he’s going to say something smart - only for his eyes to soften as he leans back in, kissing her once more with the kind of passion she’s still getting used to, as if Peter had spent years dreaming of kissing her and was still amazed that he got the chance to.

It’s a feeling she understands, Michelle smiling as he kissed her once more - if only because she felt the exact same way. 

* * *

“What if we went on vacation?”

Michelle snorts, typing out an email on her phone - glancing up at Peter as he comes back in from the other room. 

“Vacation from what? It’s not like you can plan when some idiot in some electrified jetpack flying around New York City,” she says, only to pause when he slides into bed next to her. “You _can’t_ plan that right?”

Peter just grins, throwing an arm over her as he nestles his face into her arm, pressing gentle kisses over the space where all those months ago she’d gotten scratched up.

There was only a faint scar there, one Michelle could barely see. Yet anytime they were like this, cuddled in bed, Peter never failed to draw attention to it - a part of Michelle’s heart clenching at the idea that he still harbored guilt for something that he needed no apology for. 

“No, I can’t plan it,” he says with a murmured laugh, Michelle glancing over to him as he props himself up - hand gently grazing over her stomach. “I was just thinking… don’t you ever wish this was easier?”

“What do you mean?” Michelle asks, saving the email in a draft and looking back at him - Peter sitting up more. 

“This. _Us_ ,” Peter says, searching her face. “I mean I know you have your dissertation proposal defense coming up and my life is a mess.” He laughs but Michelle can see it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“I don’t know. It’s not like it would’ve been any easier in high school but--”

“It wouldn’t,” Michelle says definitively, Peter looking almost taken aback by her tone. She pushes forward saying, “We were such different people then. And yeah, sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I didn’t live an hour and a half away and if you had any chance of being on time for anything in your life.”

“I showed up to your hotel in twenty minutes, that first night” Peter says with a grin, Michelle playfully rolling her eyes as she sinks down into the bed - Peter mirroring her action until they’re on their sides, facing each other. 

“That was a fluke and you’re missing the point,” she says, Peter’s arm resting over her waist as she sighs. 

Michelle can’t lie and say she hadn’t thought of this very thing - especially in the last few months as her advisor starts to get on her ass about turning in her proposal and the job search she knows is yet to come looms large over her future. 

She’d always imagined she’d end up back in New York, yet the decision to move back after graduation was now tied up with Peter - the independent part of Michelle bristling at the idea of ever moving anywhere because of a man yet knowing that if Peter hadn’t been a part of the equation, the city had always been her home. 

But he _was_ a factor in the decision, Michelle was self-aware enough to admit it - just as she knows that moving into the city in a year or two wouldn’t change Peter’s double life as Spider-Man, glad in many ways that for as difficult as it was to date a superhero that she had the chance to do this as an adult and not the sixteen year old girl she once was. 

It’s that maturity, one that only comes with age, time and life experience that propels her forward - bringing a hand to his face as she says, “It wouldn’t be you. It wouldn’t be _us._ ”

She swallows down the old insecurities in her gut, allowing herself the chance to be more vulnerable with him than she ever could’ve imagined being as a teenager as she says, “as much as it might scare me or frustrated me or even endanger me, I can’t change that. I don’t _want_ to change that.” 

Peter’s hand drifts from her waist and back to her arm, Michelle seeing the storm in his eyes as he says, “You deserve better than that, MJ.”

“I think I can decide that for myself,” she says, thumb gently caressing his face, “and besides, it’s not about _deserving_. It’s a choice.”

She leans in closer, Peter’s eyes half-closing as she whispers, “And I’m _choosing_ to be here, right now, with you.” 

Peter’s lips meet hers, almost breathing her in as he brings her closer - Michelle leaning into it as she wraps her arms around him. 

The possibilities of their future felt both endless and out of reach, Michelle knowing that Peter’s fears weren’t completely unfounded. It was a fear that she had for herself, wondering if she even fully recognized the ramifications of what choosing to be with Peter would be like - what future they could possibly have, much less what it would look like. 

Yet as Peter’s mouth began to move with a little more purpose, Michelle sighing as her hands wandered - she let herself consider all the steps that had led to this moment, not just the fateful meeting in her old favorite coffee shop that just so happened to be a few blocks from where Peter lived but all the choices they’d made in the time in between. 

Choosing to see each other again and again in the weeks that followed, having an _actual_ coffee date like they originally planned when Second Street opened up again and Peter coming over to Princeton on alternating weekends - meshing their lives together as best they could, even with everything else pulling them in different directions. 

Michelle didn’t know how sustainable it would be or if she was being foolish, to force herself to be in the moment rather than to consider the future. 

But then Michelle thinks, there’s no way she could have ever planned to have seen Peter again to begin with - a chance encounter that had the two of them not taken the steps they had even then, their time together would’ve easily slipped between their fingers, unnoticed - like two ships crossing each other in the night. 

As she moves back to hover over Peter, bracketing her hips across his waist and his hands running up and down her back - Michelle wonders if maybe that’s what gave them a fighting chance. 

They weren’t destined for each other, it wasn’t fate that had brought him back into her life - Michelle had lived through too much and worked too hard to ever believe in such a concept. 

But it was interesting thing all the same - getting lost in the moment with Peter and overwhelmed with promise of the future - to consider the possibility that despite how they’d lost touch and the years that had passed and all the changes the two of them had undergone, here they were. 

That all the obstacles that had been put in their way, all the little decisions they could’ve made that could’ve set them in any direction - it was as if it had all conspired together, leading them right to this moment.

And right back to each other. 

* * *

  
  


_Time, curious time_

_Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs_

_Were there clues I didn’t see?_

_And isn’t it just so pretty to think_

_All along there was some invisible string tying you to me?_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is finally here!!!! We did it. 20k+ later and 3 more chapters than I originally planned but WE MADE IT. 
> 
> I loved writing this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it :))

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Marie for patiently listening to me scream into the void as I figured out if I should have a plot and to blondsak for helping me untangle said plot in a way that makes sense.
> 
> I love it when people scream at me in the comments. [ Come hang out with me on tumblr! ](https://seek-rest.tumblr.com)


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